


Immaculate misconception

by DefaultJane



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, shaynor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2019-06-14 11:57:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 43,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15388266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaultJane/pseuds/DefaultJane
Summary: Samantha was led to believe the deal included a couple of children, but Shepard is dilly-dallying. There’s only so many years one can wait for something to happen before getting ready to give up, and Shepard must find closure regarding her childhood before she can start her own family.





	1. Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> This is a response to writing prompts “How do you ‘accidentally’ adopt three dogs?” and “We are not going to steal someone’s dog" for Shaynor.  
> Featuring default blonde FemShep -Maxima Alexis Shepard- Earthborn  
> Also, I don’t know for certain that that’s how asari reproduction works, I tried looking it up but, you know, it’s the Internet, what kind of responses can you expect I got. So, if someone knows for sure either way, let me know. And if I’m completely wrong, then… artistic liberty for the plot, don’t tell anyone, shh, shh…

Shepard woke up when she got rudely pushed on the bed until she slid over the edge and fell to the floor.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she muttered irritably as she sat up and turned to glare at the three dogs Samantha had adopted and allowed on the bed.

The one who’d pushed Shepard off the bed was the large German Shepherd Samantha had decided to name Admiral because she’d thought it would be funny if Admiral Shepherd outranked Commander Shepard. At least the Dobermann named Krauser had some decency; he had claimed a spot at the foot of the bed where he’d remained, not disturbing the human.

“ _Et tu, Brute?”_ Shepard asked from the third and the smallest dog in the family, a chihuahua named Whiskey as he trotted along the side of the bed and went to lay on Shepard’s pillow since it was now free.  
“Remind me again why we need three dogs?” Shepard asked when she went downstairs and into the kitchen where Samantha was making breakfast.

“I didn’t mean to adopt them all, it was an accident,” Samantha said as she vigorously scrambled eggs in the pan.  
“How do you ‘accidentally’ adopt three dogs?” Shepard insisted and went to grab her coffee mug. It was a custom mug, the words “Council tears” written on its side with bold black letters. A very much appreciated gift from Joker.

“By looking at their adorable faces and not being able to leave any single one of them behind!”  
“Then, I suppose I should consider myself lucky they only had three dogs up for adoption when you went over to the shelter,” Shepard mumbled into her mug before taking a long sip.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to project my motherly instincts on dogs if you’d put a baby in me already,” Samantha smirked, plated the eggs and went to take a seat at the table, proceeding to smear a generous amount of lemon curd onto a piece of toast then.

“What, am I just a baby making-machine to you?” Shepard asked, exaggerating her pouty tone.  
“Yes. At first, I was just using you for your shower, now I’m using you for your ‘sperm’,” Samantha confirmed with a smirk.

“Need I remind you it takes a bit more than just a five second orgasm from me to make that happen?” Shepard quirked an eyebrow and gripped Samantha’s wrist to intercept her hand. She leaned in to shamelessly take a large bite out of the bread Samantha was holding.

“You don’t, I know it’s not that simple, but I also know you’ve been intentionally dilly-dallying about having your stem cells collected and converted,” Samantha said and yanked the rest of the toast from Shepard’s mouth.  
“Would you believe me if I told you it’s because I’m scared of needles?” Shepard asked and sat down as well.

* * *

* * *

 

“Not in a million years,” Samantha rolled her eyes. “What’s really going on, Shepard? I was under the impression that this was something you wanted too. Or, were you just saying that because everything was falling apart, and you weren’t planning on actually living through it?”

“No!” Shepard denied immediately. “No. I meant what I said. I do want it.”  
“Then what’s wrong?”

“I’m a little scared,” Shepard confessed.  
“Why?” Samantha frowned.

“Because we don’t know anything about me. Nothing about my family’s medical history for example. For all we know, I could be carrying some incredibly rare genetic illness that’s just dormant in me but could manifest in our daughter. Or her children in the future.”

“Shepard, that is a risk every future parent has to take.”  
“Yes, but not on this level. Most people have at least some idea. Just because no one’s found anything in me up until now doesn’t mean it can’t be there. In the past, there were a lot of medical conditions that killed a lot of people, but no one just had names for them yet and that didn’t make those illnesses any less lethal,” Shepard muttered.

Samantha got up and went to her. Shepard wrapped her arms around Samantha’s waist and pressed the side of her face against her abdomen as Samantha ran her fingers through Shepard’s blonde hair and nuzzled the top of her head gently.

“My love, that… is… an incredibly lame excuse, and you know it,” Samantha then mumbled into Shepard’s hair, her words in contradiction with the gentle tone of her voice.  
“It’s not an—”

“Yes, it is,” Samantha interrupted and softly slapped the back of Shepard’s head before collecting her empty coffee mug and taking it into the dishwasher. “If you were really concerned about something like that, you could just ask Liara,” she added over her shoulder, sounding a bit more venomous than she’d meant to.

Shepard grunted internally and sighed deeply. Samantha was right, Liara _would_ know.

“Before you get angry at me over that, let me just remind you that she didn’t ask for my opinion let alone my permission,” Shepard defended herself and Samantha let out a deep exhale, her shoulders slumping a little as she did and leaned against the kitchen counter.

“I’m not angry at you. I’m not even angry at Liara because frankly, if I’d had the option to just stash your genetic build away somewhere and later use it to impregnate myself with, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat, especially before you headed to Earth to face the reapers and there was no telling if you’d ever come back,” Samantha muttered and turned to face Shepard, crossing her arms over her abdomen.

“And don’t get me wrong, I enjoy being a stepmother to Janae, but you knew I wanted children of my own. It’s been five years, Shepard. I’m going to need you to give me something.”  
“Samantha…”

“I’m going to walk the dogs,” she interrupted, and Shepard understood that unless she was willing to say she’d make an appointment with the doctor to start the process, Samantha didn’t want to hear it right now.

* * *

Krauser and Admiral walked obediently by Samantha’s sides, but Whiskey was an energetic curious one, dashing off to chase the next interesting scent at a half a second’s notice, his leash tight as he constantly scampered forward impatiently. Usually Samantha would’ve tried controlling him and teaching him to be more patient, but today her mind was wandering off, her thoughts darting from one thing to another, much like Whiskey was doing. And on top of it all, she was too busy feeling annoyed at Shepard.

During the first year and a half after the war, Samantha had understood perfectly why having children wasn’t a priority; Shepard was still recovering from her injuries and the rebuilding of the planet was just getting started. But it had been nearly five years now and the excuses Shepard kept offering her were getting more ridiculous by the day.

Sometimes Samantha wondered if it was because Shepard already had a child; maybe Janae’s birth had made Shepard realize she didn’t actually want kids. The way Shepard interacted with her daughter and how happy she seemed to be every time Janae spent a week with her spoke volumes to the contrary though.

Shepard had insisted on being a part of the child’s life and she’d wanted to share custody even after Liara had made it clear she wasn’t expecting anything like that from Shepard; Samantha doubted Shepard would’ve done that just for show or out of feeling obligated despite Liara’s assurances that she had no reason to feel that way.

_Maybe she’s worried I’ll leave her if she admits she doesn’t want any more children,_ Samantha mused. Truthfully, she didn’t know what she would do if that turned out to be the reason Shepard was stalling. She’d never had to think about it before because up until now, she’d been convinced Shepard was on the same page with her when it came to having a family. She’d never had to stop and consider would Shepard not wanting children be a deal breaker for her, not until now.

She couldn’t think of an answer to that.

***


	2. Remembrance

_Baby girl – Maxima Alexis Shepard 4/11/2154_

That was the one and only thing she knew of her origin. Her gender, date of birth and her name scribbled in a stranger’s handwriting onto a piece of paper. It meant nothing and yet, it was all she had at times. She’d reached out, done searches herself on the Extranet, reluctantly so, and found nothing relevant. The things she _had_ found, she hated, the positive as much as the negative, but especially the few entries on forums made by the ones who’d known her before she’d become the most famous human in the galaxy.

It came as no surprise some would take it upon themselves to brag after Shepard had become a household name. Most people had the common sense to keep it to themselves, they had grown to have something to lose if such details from their past were made public. Others, not so much, they didn’t miss a beat letting everyone know that once upon a time, they had solicited sex from her, or that they’d done drugs with the hero of the Citadel, the savior of the galaxy.

Thankfully, no one important believed those stories or cared about them, and most of the people posting them took them down (except the batarians who had no problem boasting about having hate-fucked the filthy human for a few credits) after someone pointed out to them that they’d openly admitted to what technically was raping an underaged girl since at the time, Shepard had been too young or too intoxicated to legally consent.

But what else was there before the streets, before her time in the gang during which she’d done everything from prostitution and armed robberies to dealing as well as using drugs? She had very little idea. It was as if she’d just began to exist out of thin air.

She had one memory, sitting in a woman’s lap, wrapped in a blanket during a stormy night, that was it before the streets and before getting picked up by a drug dealer who had given Shepard a home in exchange for Shepard running drugs to the city for her. Someone had to have given birth to her, someone had to have looked after her in the beginning. Aside from a fragment or two here and there, it was gone.

Days like this, it paid to personally know the Shadow Broker. Shepard hadn’t asked for the information before because she hadn’t wanted to know. Prior to meeting Samantha, she’d assumed she’d spent her life with Liara which meant that any negative trait she might pass on to her offspring could be simply ignored by Liara when she picked and chose what to use. It didn’t work that way with another human. At least not completely legally or cheaply.

Technically, it was within the realm of possibility, but it would’ve required a lot of invasive treatments and that she and Samantha would’ve been able to invest six figure sums into bribing scientists to do it and to bribing anyone aware of it to look the other way. Despite all her accomplishments, she was still just a marine whose annual income after taxes was enough to ensure she could live comfortably, especially when combining her finances with Samantha’s and the royalties she made off the vids, but it wasn’t the kind of money that was anywhere near enough to pull off what Henry Lawson had done when he’d created Miranda. Having stem cells extracted, converted into sperm cells and used to fertilize her partner’s eggs involved a lot less paperwork and money.

 _And even if I had the money, I wouldn’t actually want to pick and choose every detail of my child, that’s not how it’s supposed to be. And common gene therapies could rule out any known diseases, so…_ Shepard mused and just then realized how Samantha had seen through her ridiculous excuse with such ease.

_I’m an idiot._

Shepard looked over the data Liara had delivered to her over six months ago. She’d asked for it but hadn’t touched it because she hadn’t wanted to know, not for sure. Since Samantha’s ultimatum, she was left with no other choice.

She wasn’t sure what to think and she certainly couldn’t predict what Samantha would think about all the intel provided. Shepard had disclosed many of the details regarding her past, but there were things she’d left out because while she knew that on some level, Samantha must have put two and two together, she didn’t want to explicitly put that information and the mental images that came with it into her head.

Shepard perked up when she heard the door open and close, followed by the rattling and clicking sound the dogs’ claws made on the floor as they excitedly circled around Samantha after the walk, probably expecting their breakfast. She got up and went to the kitchen where Samantha was emptying a couple of cans of dog food into bowls.

Krauser sat still, obediently waiting like the well-trained dog that he was. Admiral and Whiskey weren’t quite as patient; they lurched toward their bowls the moment they were reachable, almost emptying them before Samantha had even had a chance to put the bowls down.

“Easy now, geez,” she muttered and reached to grab an extra treat, adding it into Krauser’s food to reward him for being a good dog.  
“Sam…” Shepard said quietly and went to wrap her arms around Samantha from behind, but she ducked the attempted embrace and moved to the sink to rinse her hands.

“I’m still mad at you.”  
“Would it help at all if I told you the reason why I’ve been putting off getting the procedure done?”

“Depends on how ridiculous your excuse is this time.”  
“It’s not an excuse but I’m pretty sure it’s more ridiculous than the ones I’ve given before.”

“Not a very promising start then,” Samantha scoffed.  
“Just… hear me out,” Shepard said and gestured toward the chair. Samantha exhaled irritably but took a seat regardless.

“As you know, I grew up on the streets and I was a part of a gang… well, two gangs really. The second one, Tenth street Reds is the one you know about, but there was another before that. We were called the Mustang kids because we all lived in ranch house that used to have horses… Never saw any during my time there, but the name stuck,” Shepard began.

“Go on,” Samantha muttered.

“My earliest memory is from when I was still a toddler, I was wrapped up in a blanket and I was sitting in a woman’s lap, we were outside. It was night, there was a storm, but not the kind with thunder and rain; the sky was clear, and I could see the stars, but it was really windy.”

“The woman was your mother, I presume?” Samantha asked, and Shepard shook her head slowly.  
“Maybe. Possibly. But that’s all I remember. After that all I know is the streets. And then the drug dealer who took me home… and then the streets again.”

“A drug dealer?” Samantha quirked an eyebrow.

“Think of it as an illegal foster home,” Shepard smirked. “We called the woman in charge Mother, and she could be caring and motherly sometimes. Most of us were just kids, I was the youngest, I was five or so. And as you know, kids tend to be clumsy so there were a lot of scrapes and bruises to look after and she did.”

“There’s more to being a mother than patching your kid up with a band-aid,” Samantha muttered. Shepard nodded in agreement but didn’t comment.

“She used us kids to run and deal drugs for her. It’s the perfect operation really, kids on the street are invisible because no one wants to see homeless people, especially if they’re kids. They look away and move along,” Shepard explained, and Samantha nodded slowly, not sure what this had to do with Shepard’s reluctance to have children, but not wanting to rush Shepard by telling her to get to the point.

“Up until quite recently, I didn’t know where I’d come from or been at prior to Mother’s house. I didn’t know who my parents were. I asked Li—” Shepard interrupted herself needlessly, it wasn’t like Samantha didn’t already know the worst kept secret in their circle of friends.

“…the Shadow Broker to look into it and this is what was sent to me,” she corrected herself and handed the data to Samantha.  
“This is a picture of a pregnant nun,” Samantha said in a deadpan tone and Shepard smacked her lips, sucking in a hissing breath through her teeth.

“Yup.”  
“I don’t understand.”

“Read on,” Shepard encouraged, and Samantha did so.

Sister Andromeda had claimed she’d never done anything that possibly could have resulted in her getting pregnant -at least not the natural way- and according to the medical exams performed on her, she had indeed been a virgin. Once the story of that had spread, two factions had taken an interest in it. Namely, a faction stating this was God’s work and another faction stating the opposite, convinced that the child was the devil’s spawn. Why either had come to the conclusion they had was beyond any reason.

With the help of her friend, Lilith, Sister Andromeda had done her best to disappear and hide from the two factions who were fighting with each other and making demands regarding the child, the most radical individuals amongst the groups insisting that the child should be put to death.

There were few references to articles in which the author of them had implied that perhaps the child was the result of a medical experiment done on Sister Andromeda unbeknownst to her; everyone’s favorite conspiracy theory being that the governments experimented on their people in order to produce super-soldiers. Picking a nun for such an experiment seemed like a strange choice at first but considering how eagerly people believed that this was an immaculate conception, perhaps the idea behind that had been to cause unrest amongst the believers.

“Shepard, you do realize…” Samantha began to say.  
“I _do_ realize. It’s old superstition and ancient conspiracy theories, but looking back on my life… what I’ve done, what I’ve survived… I have to admit that the more I think about it, the more sense it makes.”

“That you’re the devil’s child? Or, alternatively, a Christ child?” Samantha quirked an eyebrow.  
“No,” Shepard chuckled; that was too far-fetched even for her. “No, I mean that maybe I was… manufactured.”

Samantha sighed a little but didn’t comment, instead she focused on reading the rest of the information provided. It didn’t say what had happened to the nun or the baby. The next page contained a mugshot of a brunette giving an intense glare to the camera (a glare Samantha felt like she recognized, realizing it was because Shepard had the same intense look), holding up a sign with the date and the police department’s name as well as her own. Lilith Shepard, according to her file she’d been arrested for drug trafficking a few years prior to Maxima Shepard’s birth.

“So, this drug dealer helped her pregnant nun-friend to disappear and proceeded to look after her child. Let me guess, this is Mother,” Samantha summarized and tapped her finger on the mugshot. Shepard nodded.  
“And you’re convinced the government had a hand in illegal human experiments and they basically used your biological mother as an incubator and you are the result of said experiment?”

“…yes. I mean, come on, it’s not unheard of! I ran enough errands for Hackett in my day to know that the Alliance has a dark side to it as well and it’s not much better than what Cerberus was doing, just painted in different colors. Why is imagining a government doing something similar so hard to believe?”

“Shepard… what the flipping hell this has to do with us having a child!” Samantha snapped in exasperation and tossed the datapad onto the kitchen table.  
“Look, there’s been studies about people, the whole nature versus nurture-argument, and from what I’ve read, there’s evidence that some people are basically just born evil and no matter how nurturing the environment is, they still end up growing to be psychotic killers.”

“Oh, good Lord…” Samantha groaned and buried her face into her hand. Shepard ignored her reaction.

“And I’m thinking that what if this is true, what if I was specifically engineered to be more prone to violence and to have less of an emotional response to things, to endure things normal humans can’t? What if these things would somehow end up getting passed on to our child and she’ll end up being even worse?”

“I’m the first one to agree that you’re an extraordinary human being, but I don’t think…”

“Come with me,” Shepard interrupted and reached to grip Samantha’s wrist, gently tugging her with her as she headed over to the armory. Shepard pulled out a sniper rifle.  
“Hold this,” she said and shoved it into Samantha’s arms. She doubled over at the sudden weight being put to her arms and almost dropped the rifle.

“That’s an M-98 Widow. If you’d fire that, your arm would shatter. I shouldn’t be able to fire it either, but I am.”  
“And that’s what you’re basing your entire theory on?” Samantha questioned and let out a quiet exhale of relief when Shepard took the rifle from her and put it away.

“Well, I also survived getting blasted by a reaper from close range… I’ve gotten spaced, I’ve fallen from the sky _twice_. I’ve gotten beaten, stabbed, shot, electrocuted, I’ve overdosed on drugs, I’ve gotten head-butted by a Krogan, I’ve been poisoned, I’ve done hand-to-hand combat with a Yahg, I’ve survived the times thresher maws sprayed acid on me, I’ve—”

“I get the picture,” Samantha interrupted Shepard’s endless list. “But all I’m hearing is how this presumed tampering with your genetics has ensured that you’ve survived against incredible odds, why are you afraid of passing that onto our child?” she then asked.

“Not those but the rest of what is in me. You’ve seen vids, you’ve read stories about serial killers who show absolutely no remorse for what they’ve done and admit openly they’d do it again and you think to yourself, ‘what the hell has gone wrong with this person’s brain and upbringing, why are they like this’ and the answer is… they just are that way. I am that way.”

“Except you’re not a serial killer.”  
“Aren’t I?” Shepard quirked an eyebrow and Samantha frowned.

“You weren’t the last time I checked.”

“If the circumstances were different and if I didn’t have the title and privileges of a Spectre, I would be in jail for murder because I’ve killed a lot of people… sometimes unnecessarily so,” Shepard said. “I don’t think you’ve ever really thought about it that way before,” she then added.

“You’re right, I haven’t. I’ve always thought you did what you had to do in order to save the galaxy. I’ve thought you did it because it was either kill or be killed. I’ve thought you were a marine, doing what you were trained to do to survive extreme circumstances. I never thought of you as a cold-blooded killer.”

“And now?” Shepard asked tentatively.  
“I still don’t think like that of you. Unless you tell me that you enjoy killing, then I might have to rethink this.”

“I don’t enjoy it.”

“Good!” Samantha said and sighed a little. “Look, Shepard… I agree that you can be ruthless, I’m not sweeping that side of you under the rug and pretending it doesn’t exist, but that side exists because of how you were brought up. You had to be ready to go to the extremes to survive, already as a child. Contrary to what you seem to believe, it’s not in your genes.”

“And knowing everything you know, you’d still want to stay with me, and even have a child with me?” Shepard questioned, frowning deeply and Samantha offered a smile. She went to Shepard and put her arms around Shepard’s shoulders, leaning into her and reached to kiss her lips softly.

“None of what you’ve said is shockingly new information… other than your obvious belief in this conspiracy-nonsense,” Samantha murmured into the kiss.  
“It’s not nonsense,” Shepard argued in a mumble.

“I agree that there probably was science behind how you came to the world, but not in the way you think,” Samantha said and pulled back from the kiss, turning to begin heading back to the kitchen to grab the datapad and Shepard followed, curious.

“It’s more likely these two were lovers and you’re their child. I don’t agree that there were any experiments taking place, I mean, we are talking about a nun and a drug dealer, I doubt they would have afforded to have a custom baby engineered,” Samantha reasoned in a mutter and pulled up the pictures side by side and then raised the datapad up, holding it next to Shepard’s face.

“Unless they were offered the opportunity to do so for free in exchange for agreeing to be guinea pigs for some shady government experiment to—” Shepard began, and Samantha leaned in to silence her with a kiss before she had a chance to get once more lost in the world of crazy theories.

“Don’t start,” she said after pulling away from the kiss and firmly placed her index finger over Shepard’s lips to emphasize her point. Shepard’s eyes crossed a little as she looked at the finger and Samantha chuckled quietly at the look on her face.

“Now, I wouldn’t bet my life on it, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure that I’m right,” she then said after making the comparison between Shepard and the pictures of the two women for a while. Shepard had her “father’s” eyes and lips whereas the bone structure of her face resembled more the one her birth mother had. The blonde hair was something Samantha was guessing Shepard had inherited from her birthmother, she couldn’t tell for sure because her hair was covered by the habit she wore in the picture provided of her, and her “father’s” hair appeared to be black.

“Holy shit,” Shepard exclaimed when she made the comparison herself, deciding to run it through a program that looked for similarities and it confirmed what Samantha had already told her after simply “eyeballing” it.

“So… is ‘Mother’ still around?” Samantha asked (appreciating the irony of calling her that since technically she was the father), implying that if she was, Shepard should reach out to her and ask her for all the details and for the truth rather than keep guessing and coming up with silly theories.

“I don’t know. She disowned me after I failed to report back to her with the money I’d made selling drugs. She kicked me out when I was thirteen.”  
“In other words, you stole the money,” Samantha mused.

“Mm-hm, and the drugs,” Shepard confessed bluntly. “But if it’s any consolation, I think I confirmed karma’s existence because those were the drugs I overdosed on just a few days later,” she added.  
“Oh, Shepard,” Samantha sighed, shaking her head, her voice somehow sounding both amused and disappointed at the same time.

“Anyway, considering that it seems practically everyone in the galaxy has my email-address, if she’d wanted to reach out to me, she could’ve. I doubt she would tell me anything even if she is still alive… and even if you were right. I mean, a drug dealer and a nun, it’s a bit of a stretch, wouldn’t you agree? How would they have even met?” Shepard then smirked, and Samantha shrugged one shoulder.

“Not all nuns live in a convent or stay closed off from the rest of the world. Considering your other mother’s line of work, it’s likely they met through her clientele when sister Andromeda was doing her charitable work out on the streets,” she theorized. Shepard rolled her eyes a little, not at all convinced that Lilith would’ve had what it took to make a nun abandon her convictions, and she told Samantha as much.

“Oh, I don’t know. Haven’t you ever had someone come along and suddenly your desire to be with that person changes everything you’d ever planned for your future?” Samantha reminded her with a smile. Shepard scoffed amusedly.  
“I walked right into that one.”

“So, this is what you’ve been stressing over?” Samantha then said, reaching to cup Shepard’s cheek with her hand, running her thumb over the scar tissue on her cheek. It was glowing red like it always did when Shepard was troubled and stressed, making it nearly impossible for her to hide her anxieties from Samantha.

That was the reason she’d recently begun to seriously reconsider doctor Chakwas’s offer to heal the scars permanently… but a part of her liked them. They were there as proof of the things Shepard had lived through, a reminder of the things she’d survived and accomplished. They served a purpose.

“Mostly,” Shepard admitted sheepishly.  
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Well, because it sounded so stupid, didn’t it?”  
“Maybe a little, but if you’d told me, I could’ve told you what is more likely really happened a lot sooner,” Samantha said, and Shepard hung her head a little.

“For the most part of my life, I’ve been… well, an evil cunt,” Shepard said, and Samantha made a face of disapproval at the expletive but didn’t comment.  Instead, she eased into the movement when Shepard sat down and put her arms around Samantha’s waist, pulling her to straddle her lap.

“It’s been only in the recent years that I’ve grown more sympathetic toward other people. I guess you could say dying twice really changed my life,” Shepard smirked, and Samantha laughed softly at that, wrapping her arms around Shepard’s shoulders.

“I didn’t think people could change like that. But, when I look back on who I was up until just a few months before the reapers attacked Earth, I don’t recognize that person. I worried I would pass that evil on to our kids. I don’t want them to grow up to be like me, especially the me that I was a few years back. I panicked. That’s basically what happened. I realize I should’ve just talked to you about it and I realize how stupid it sounds, but… I don’t know, something just went wrong… in here,” Shepard said and tapped her forehead with her fingers.

“Kids?”  
“Huh?”

“You said ‘kids’, plural.”  
“Well, you said you wanted two, didn’t you?”

“I did, I’m just amazed you remembered.”  
“I also remember you said _one_ dog, a retriever, not a horde of dogs you’ve collected on your way home,” Shepard quirked an eyebrow.

“I could add a retriever to the family relatively easily, I’ve seen one a few houses over. He always seems happy to see me, I bet he’d gladly follow me home if I opened the gate and let him out.”  
“We are not stealing someone’s dog!” Shepard said in exasperation and Samantha chuckled softly, leaning to kiss her lips.

“Is it really stealing if he voluntarily follows me home?”

“Fine, let me rephrase; even if he escapes from his yard on his own and follows you home, you can’t keep him!” Shepard muttered into the kiss, trying to sound stern about it but couldn’t really because Samantha deepened the kiss to stop her from talking, interlocking her lips with Shepard’s tightly.

“Hmh, we’re getting another dog, aren’t we?” Shepard gave up when Samantha trailed her lips over her jawline and to her ear.  
“Either that or a baby, you decide which one,” Samantha hummed into Shepard’s ear, knowing perfectly well that her breathy whispers always made Shepard go weak at the knees.

“You’re a little evil, you know that?” Shepard almost whimpered.  
“Don’t worry, it probably won’t pass on to our daughters,” Samantha said innocently, and Shepard laughed.

***


	3. Dusk

The few times Samantha had managed to steal Shepard all to herself prior to the final assault, she’d noticed that as good as the sex had been, it had always been overshadowed by the feeling of an inevitable end, a desperation to make every second count because this could be the last chance; love prompted by the need to distract themselves from the feeling of impending doom and fear of death.

It hadn’t been until Shepard’s recovery after defeating the reapers that Samantha had had a chance to experience making love to Shepard without those unpleasant thoughts nagging at her like white noise in the background. It had made all the difference. But now, it felt like that again. Shepard was there and at the same time she wasn’t.

“Shepard,” Samantha whispered and tucked her fingers into Shepard’s hair, balling her hand into a loose fist, tugging on Shepard gently to get her to raise her head from the spot between Samantha’s neck and shoulder that she’d been trailing her lips along.

“What?” she frowned at the interruption.  
“Where are you?” Samantha asked quietly and moved her hand to cup Shepard’s cheek.

“I’m right here,” Shepard replied, not understanding the question. Samantha shook her head a little.  
“No, you’re not.”

Shepard rolled to lay on her back next to Samantha and raised her arm, resting it over her eyes, exhaling deeply.

“She’s alive, isn’t she?” Samantha asked, and she didn’t need to elaborate and explain who she was referring to. Shepard nodded slightly.

“And you know where she is,” Samantha said, rising to rest her weight on her forearm, turning to face Shepard who was still hiding underneath her arm. Another nod.

“You should go meet her,” Samantha continued. She knew Shepard had already considered it and had probably been planning on doing it, but Samantha also knew Shepard was likely to dilly-dally about that too unless she’d mention it and act like she’d put the idea in Shepard’s head.

“You think so?” Shepard asked, finally turning to look at her and Samantha smiled. It seemed her delicate manipulation was working.

“It’s clear you need answers and closure, and she can provide you with both, why wouldn’t you go see her?” Samantha reasoned. She got another smirk from Shepard, that confident tiny rise in the corner of her mouth which somehow managed to soften Shepard’s entire features despite its subtlety.

“Well, for one, I’m certain that she’ll try to shoot me on sight. And if not, it’s like I said, I don’t think she’d talk to me,” Shepard said.  
“You won’t know if you don’t try. And I for one have no intention of listening to whine and watch you brood over what ifs if you never ask her and she dies before you get a chance,” Samantha rolled her eyes at Shepard.

“Would you stop knowing me so well?” Shepard said huskily and moved toward Samantha, settling her hips between Samantha’s thighs and leaning over her.  
“I can try once you stop being such an open book; I’m a very avid reader when it comes to you,” Samantha smiled and sunk her fingers into Shepard’s hair, gripping it once more. She loved doing that, Shepard’s hair was ridiculously soft. And furthermore, she knew Shepard loved it when she did that.

“I love you, Sam,” Shepard whispered. She leaned down and pressed her lips on to Samantha’s lightly and gently at first, then deepening the kiss, quickly turning it into a passionate one Samantha was more than happy to let herself be drawn into.

* * *

Whiskey used Admiral as a stepping stone to be able to jump onto the bed, a routine the two dogs apparently had worked on and did on a regular basis nowadays. Shepard was actually glad the little monsters had learned to do it that way; previously, Whiskey had remained by the bed, whimpering and jumping restlessly until Shepard or Samantha gave in and picked him up.

“No. Mine,” Shepard said sternly and turned to the side as if to shield her slice of pizza. Whiskey didn’t move, simply sat at the foot of the bed and stared at her until she gave in and threw the remaining piece to the dog who caught it into his mouth. It was mostly crust anyway.

“So, why did you run away?” Samantha asked, and Shepard straightened up a little, mentally telling Whiskey to chew faster before Samantha would notice she’d given him food.  
“Excuse me?”

“From Mother’s house. Why did you run away?” Samantha elaborated and got in bed as well. They’d ended up spending the entire day in bed after the conversation they’d had in the morning, aside from Samantha walking the dogs while Shepard had gone to grab them a couple of pizzas for dinner. She wouldn’t have minded having more days like this.

“I mean, I can see why being a drug dealer probably wasn’t your dream job but considering the alternative of living on the streets, I don’t quite understand why you ran way,” Samantha said.  
“Actually, my plan was to continue as an independent drug dealer after running away from Mother, but I didn’t realize that no one would work with me, Mother had a reputation which pretty much guaranteed her monopoly.”

“Oh?”  
“I don’t know if all the stories were true, but it doesn’t matter, what matters is that people believed them. I never saw her do things like that… but I know exactly how volatile she could be, so I’m not ruling anything out.”

“Tell me,” Samantha requested and arranged her pillows into a supportive pile behind her back. Shepard exhaled deeply, not really wanting to recall those stories now that she was considering going back to meet the woman who would undoubtedly be happy to subject Shepard to all the things if given half the chance.

“Well, it’s just pretty much the kind of stuff you see if you do a quick search on popular torture methods. My point is, you wanted to be on her good side.”  
“Yes, and you obviously knew this and knew how to stay on her good side, which still makes me wonder why you ran away?” Samantha repeated her original question.

“Like I said, she was volatile. Being constantly afraid of saying the wrong thing and getting a mean punch to the liver for it was just different kind of torture,” Shepard muttered.

It had taken a lot of her to finally run away. One does not simply leave an abusive relationship, often not even if they have the means to do so easily. How do you leave someone who has shattered your very core and made you believe that they are the only one who would ever love you?

Shepard had been like a mistreated dog, always returning to Lilith like that dog returns to its abuser because it doesn’t understand that it is going to get hurt no matter how good it tries to be. A dog that doesn’t understand that the person abusing it will never love it back.

“Things like that… leave you feeling kind of worthless and when you feel like that, it’s very easy to stop caring about yourself. Once you stop caring, what else is there?” Shepard shrugged one shoulder.

Samantha scooted closer to her and pressed herself against Shepard, moving to rest her head on Shepard’s chest and wrapped her arm around Shepard’s midsection.

“Is that why you’re always so eager to volunteer for suicide missions? You don’t care about yourself? Or you feel like you need to prove you are worth something?” she asked quietly.  
“I don’t know, I don’t think about things like that or go looking for a deeper meaning, I do what I do because I think it’s what I need to do,” Shepard said and nuzzled the top of Samantha’s head softly.

“Maybe you should think about it all,” Samantha said and tightened her hold on Shepard.  
“I’d rather not, thinking gives me a headache. I’m more an action-oriented kind of a gal,” Shepard said and caressed Samantha’s shoulder with her fingertips, the movements slow and her touch light, but not tickling.

“I’m serious.”  
“So am I. I’d rather deal with a Ryncol-hangover than thinky-pains,” Shepard said, and Samantha chuckled.

“All I’m saying is it could be worth the thinky-pains. You—” she was saying but Shepard, determined to not let her continue this conversation, tucked her fingers underneath Samantha’s chin and gently urged her to look up so that she could lean over and press her lips onto Samantha’s, effectively silencing her with a kiss.

Samantha had learned long a go that this was Shepard’s way of basically telling her to drop the subject. It certainly beat being rudely told to shut up.

“I’ll think about thinking about it,” Shepard smiled into the kiss and Samantha took that as a win.

***


	4. Runs in the family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Lilith is over 70 years old, but as I understand, the average human lifespan is around 140-150 years in ME so basically Lilith is just middle aged, 70 is the new 40! :)

The ranch house built of brick was larger than Shepard remembered. It was located in the outskirts of the city, a quick ride or a fifteen minute jog away from the hustle and bustle of a metropolis. When looking at it from the outside, Shepard was the first to agree that she wouldn’t have even considered that it was the home of the most notorious drug dealer in the city if she hadn’t known better.

To anyone passing by it was just another house in the suburbs, the large yard cluttered with kids’ toys and bikes, an inflatable pool with dirty water in it forgotten and slowly deflating and crumpling a bit more with each passing day, colorful plastic buckets and cups floating on the surface of the water idly. Judging from the state of the yard, Shepard figured it was safe to assume that Lilith’s modus operandi had not changed over the years.

Shepard wasn’t sure what to expect when she rang the doorbell. Maybe Lilith wouldn’t even remember her. Or if she did, maybe she wouldn’t care. Maybe she’d welcome her having changed her mind about Shepard now that she was the savior of the galaxy and all.

_What a childish fantasy, that’s never going to happen,_ Shepard scoffed internally and had to wonder why, after everything, she still found herself longing for Lilith’s approval. Knowing Lilith was her biological parent made it worse.

_I’m so fucked up. All right. Here goes nothing,_ she thought when she heard the footsteps approaching and the door was pulled open.

Lilith hadn’t changed much, she looked almost exactly like the fifty-something she’d been way back when Shepard had last seen her over twenty years ago. Her hair was a lighter shade of brown than it had been, and her skin slightly weathered by the years, but she didn’t really look older.

She did look smaller and less intimidating than she had then, but still the sight of her made Shepard feel like her heart was imploding in her chest, collapsing with fear. She was afraid of Lilith, even now. Intellectually, she knew she could take her on now that it would be a fair fight, but when she looked into Lilith’s eyes that were more amber than brown, in Shepard’s heart was… terror.

Within five seconds of Lilith recognizing Shepard, she’d drawn a pistol and racked the slide single-handedly by catching the rear sight against her belt. Racking the slide faster with only one hand than most did with two had always been her party trick. Not that most people even used the type of handgun which required racking like Lilith’s did.

“Maxima. Long time no see,” Lilith muttered as she aimed the stainless-steel Colt M1911 at Shepard’s head, her finger resting against the trigger guard’s side rather than on the trigger… for now.

Shepard couldn’t remember the last time anyone had called her by her first name. Even Samantha almost always called her Shepard, except the times she was tipsy or in an unusually good mood; then she called her Shep, a nickname she’d overheard Kasumi use and had began to use herself. Janae didn’t call her by her first name either, nor did she call her “dad” or “mom”, she usually called her Max.

“Hello, Lilith.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked and lowered the pistol, aiming at the ground as she squeezed the trigger and slowly lowered the hammer before holstering the weapon. Apparently, her curiosity had won over her desire to just shoot Shepard.  
“I need answers,” Shepard responded, and Lilith laughed.

“You must’ve gotten really stupid or cocky to come asking me questions. Either that or you’re desperate,” she said and turned, heading back into the house, leaving the door open in a silent invitation for Shepard to enter. Shepard followed her, looking around, her hand finding its way to rest on the heavy pistol strapped to her thigh. She was expecting someone to jump her any minute now. Lilith noticed this and laughed.

“Don’t worry, it’s just us,” she said and grabbed two beers from the fridge, handing the other one to Shepard. “Now, what the hell do you want? I would’ve thought you’d have the common sense to stay away from here, I don’t care if you are the savior of the galaxy. You stole from me and you disrespected me, those are offenses I take very seriously.”

“I want answers regarding my mother.”  
“That’s a tall order.”

“I know. You have no reason to help me, I have nothing to offer in return. But I knew I would regret it if I never even tried, so I came over.”  
“Fine. Ask me anything, I will answer honestly. And when we’re done, I’m going to kill you,” Lilith said and the way she said it meant it was a promise, not an idle threat.

“…not if I kill you first,” Shepard replied.

“You won’t,” Lilith said confidently, and Shepard had to admit she might be correct about that because right now, Shepard wasn’t an Alliance marine. She wasn’t the savior of the galaxy, the hero of the Citadel, the sole survivor of a vicious thresher maw attack. She was none of that, not an ounce of the survivor she was so famous for being. She was a little girl facing the woman who had never missed the opportunity to remind Shepard that she had the power and the right to decide what happened to Shepard, whether she lived or died, and how badly she’d be hurt before the latter.

Shepard took a seat at the table on the opposite side of Lilith, resting her forearm to the wooden edge and pointed the gun at Lilith, but she wasn’t fazed by it.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me you are my father?” Shepard opened, and Lilith chuckled.  
“I never realized you didn’t know. Now that you do, does it matter?” she shrugged.

“I don’t know yet. Maybe. Possibly not.”  
“There you have it. Next question.”

“Tell me who my mother was.”

“Andi was a nun who used to bring food and water to the homeless and the hookers at the neighborhood where I used to deal before moving up in the ranks. She was a good person. She was also batshit crazy. But, you know, that’s what I really loved about her, I could’ve done with less of her pious side,” Lilith muttered and drank from the beer bottle.  

“Crazy how?”

“Literally. Like she believed in some ridiculous prophecy she’d dug up from somewhere… or possibly made up herself, I don’t know, but she was certain she was right, and she believed it with her entire heart. Then again, looking at you, I might owe her an apology. Andi was convinced that her child would be the key to salvation. Don’t ask how or why, I mostly tuned out when she got in those moods,” Lilith shrugged one shoulder dismissively. Shepard had a feeling Lilith was lying or at the very least withholding information, but she wasn’t in a position to challenge her regarding it.

“And at what part did the immaculate conception-rumors start?” Shepard quirked an eyebrow and Lilith laughed.

“Well, technically, it _was_ a virgin birth, so…” she pointed out and proceeded to tell Shepard the rumors starting had been an accident. A happy one at first, the true believers could be very generous with their donations. It had gotten messy only after someone had decided that the pregnancy had to be the devil’s work.

“For what it’s worth, you did your mother proud, that’s for sure. Never would’ve imagined you’d live up to your name,” Lilith scoffed then.  
“What are you talking about?” Shepard snapped.

“Maxima Alexis. Your names mean ‘the greatest’ and ‘protector of mankind’, respectively. Or at least that’s what your mother told me when she picked the name for you. Had it been up to me, you’d just been plain Jane, but Andi was convinced you had a grand purpose and should be named accordingly,” Lilith shrugged.

“And yet everybody knows me by your name,” Shepard said bitterly.  
“Irony sure is a dick,” Lilith agreed with a smirk.

“How did someone like her get swept up with someone like you?” Shepard then asked.  
“Now, the way you’re implying I wasn’t good enough for her hurts my feelings, Maxima,” Lilith said in mock-hurt.

“Just answer me,” Shepard said impatiently.

“A rival dealer shot me in the gut and left me to bleed out on the street. Andi saved me, looked after me until I recovered. We fell in love. Some might say I seduced her and manipulated her into abandoning her beliefs but that’s not what happened, she came with me because she wanted to. A few years later, we had you.”

“I still don’t understand why she would’ve stayed with you,” Shepard muttered, and Lilith offered her a genuine smile for the first time since… Shepard couldn’t even recall when.  
“Because to her, I wasn’t just a lowlife criminal,” Lilith said and finished her beer.

_Just like I’m not just a cold-blooded killer to Samantha even though a lot of people would see me as such,_ Shepard mused but didn’t bring it up out loud.

Lilith didn’t get up to grab another beer. Instead, she reached over the table and grabbed Shepard’s bottle. Obviously, it was just going to waste and getting warm, Shepard wasn’t going to drink it. Shepard instinctively tensed up when Lilith reached toward her, her finger finding its way over to the trigger of the pistol she still had aimed at Lilith.

“What happened to my mother?” she asked instead.  
“She died,” Lilith said an annoyed tone, stating the obvious.

“Died how?” Shepard demanded.  
“Protecting you from someone who was using you both to get to me.”

“Of course. I should’ve known that. You couldn’t just quit and lead a normal life, no, of course not,” Shepard snapped.

“If you hadn’t been such a crybaby Andi wouldn’t have had to take you outside to calm you down, and she wouldn’t have gotten executed in her own fucking backyard!” Lilith growled, her fist tightening around the beer bottle until the glass shattered underneath the pressure. She grunted and shook her hand a little, sending shards of glass and drops of beer flying off her skin, the pieces rattling as they fell on the floor and hit the refrigerator’s door.

“You’re blaming me?” Shepard scoffed in disbelief. “Hah, you’re a narcissistic sociopath, of course you’re blaming me. It never crossed your mind that it wouldn’t have happened if _you_ had stopped and gotten a normal job so that the rival gangs wouldn’t have had any reason to go around killing your family members just to send you a message!”

Shepard had barely finished her sentence when Lilith suddenly swatted the table aside, knocking the gun from Shepard’s hand as she did, causing Shepard to lurch forward and lose her balance when the object she’d been leaning to was pulled away from underneath her. Shepard had barely recovered from that when Lilith lunged at her, the sole of her boot impacting with Shepard’s midsection, knocking her and the chair she sat on over. In a matter of seconds, Lilith was straddling her and pinning her down, her forearm pressing against Shepard’s throat with crushing force.

“You come into my house and question me at gunpoint? Who the hell do you think you are, you impudent little shit!” Lilith sneered at her and leaned against her harder. Shepard struggled to breathe, her heartbeat pounding in her temples, each cell in her body screaming for oxygen. She’d been here before, she remembered what it was to suffocate. It was the last way she wanted to go.

_I’m not the one who was genetically modified and enhanced, she is!_ Shepard realized. It wasn’t often she’d met someone who was strong enough to hold her down, someone human anyway. Shepard thrust her arm forward, the heel of her hand impacting heavily against Lilith’s mouth and nose, her teeth cutting deep into her lips, but Lilith barely even seemed to notice it or the copious amount of blood that began to flow from her nose and mouth, dripping over Shepard’s face.

Shepard bucked her hips, it wasn’t enough to send Lilith flying off of her, but it was enough to allow Shepard to push herself backward and yank herself free from underneath Lilith’s forearm. She rolled to the side and grabbed the gun, shoved it underneath Lilith’s chin and pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped through her head, the fragments of bone and tissue splattering the ceiling and over Shepard. Lilith’s head slumped down until her chin was pressed against her chest, her eyes open, on her face a look of disbelief that made it seem like she would’ve wanted to say she couldn’t believe Shepard had just done that. Then her entire body collapsed heavily on top of Shepard.

She grunted and pushed Lilith to the side, sat up and drew in shuddering breaths as her entire body began to shiver when adrenaline coursed through her. Shepard ran her hands over her face frantically, desperately wanting to wipe off the blood but only managing to smear it further. She stayed sitting there for a long moment before slowly getting up and climbing the stairs toward where she remembered Lilith’s office being.

She’d been there only once in her life. Snuck in, excited by the thrill of maybe discovering something awesome in there, terrified of getting caught because she’d known that if that happened, Lilith would kill her; she’d explicitly told Shepard to never go in there. And now, over quarter of a century later, she still felt that way as she stepped in.

She didn’t care about the credits Lilith undoubtedly had stashed away in there nor did she care about the documentation regarding Lilith’s operations. She only wanted to know who her mother had been, and she knew Lilith would have something here.

Considering how cold and indifferent she knew Lilith to be, her agreeing to have a child with Andromeda could only mean she’d truly loved her, and considering that, there was no way in hell she would’ve just erased Andromeda’s existence from her life. She wasn’t the type who would forget and let go, not even with bad things that would’ve been better forgotten; Shepard imagined she would’ve fought like hell to hold onto the few good things she’d had.

Shepard rummaged through the desk, pulled open the drawers and dug out their contents only to find nothing. She looked through the books in the hopes of finding a photo album something that would connect her to this all, something that would convince her that at least some part of it had been normal. Nothing.

“Damn it!” she spat angrily and threw the books aside. Then she noticed the safe embedded into the wall behind them. She went to bypass the lock and after a while yanked the door open. She reached in and activated the datapad nearest to her.

There it was. Her mother and her childhood, the chunks of her past she’d lost long ago, all stored on a stack of datapads, locked away and collecting dust in the dark. Shepard pulled them out and as she did, she noticed something else in the safe; several bricks of red sand neatly stacked in the back. Lilith’s personal stash, the good stuff, not the diluted shit she sold to the junkies.

_Go on, Max. Take a hit. No one ever really quits, you know how it is; once an addict, always an addict._


	5. Bursting bubbles

“Shepard! Where the flipping hell have you been! And what are you wearing?” Samantha demanded the moment Shepard got in through the door. The dogs hurried over to greet her enthusiastically, but she didn’t have the energy to return the affection; instead she lazily ran her hand over Krauser’s head and removed her shoes. She was dressed in oversized sweater and gray sweatpants that weren’t hers.

“At the police station. And I’m wearing these because my clothes were taken in as evidence,” Shepard said tiredly.  
“…how much trouble are you in?”

“None. I think the only people who were genuinely upset about Lilith’s death are the cops who were on her payroll. Nobody’s interested in pressing charges. Besides, it was self-defense,” Shepard dismissed.  
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Do you really want me to?” Shepard asked back and Samantha took a moment to look at Shepard’s disheveled and tired form. She still had stains of blood sticking to her skin despite her best efforts of cleaning it off, some of the blood was caked in her hair.  
“I do. When you’re ready,” Samantha finally said quietly.

“I need a shower,” Shepard then muttered and headed upstairs. She knew she wouldn’t be able to scrub off this feeling no matter how long she spent under the scalding hot water, using several handfuls of shower gel in an attempt to feel clean again. Repeating this pattern brought back a myriad of unpleasant memories Shepard forced herself to push back. Those had been there for the majority of her life, they were something she was used to ignoring. Couldn’t get rid of them either, the best she could do was to just not care.

What worried her most were the things she’d come to realize today. Whatever had been done to Lilith and for whatever reasons, she had passed those traits on to Shepard. Samantha would probably never agree with that or agree that it mattered and made a difference, but to Shepard, it did. To her it meant that the evil was within her.

_I am a descendant of someone who never thought twice about hurting a kid that was her own flesh and blood. And for what? Knowing her temper, it didn’t have to be a big thing. All that is already in me, add to that years of substance abuse and more psychological traumas than I can even count… I’m a freaking danger to the people around me,_ Shepard thought.

She didn’t know how long she’d stood there, but long enough for the hot water to run out. Sighing deeply, she turned the water off and stepped out of the shower.

“I have a confession to make,” she told Samantha when she got into the living room, dressed in her bathrobe, its comfortable softness failing at making her feel better today.

“You used up all the hot water?” Samantha jested and moved to the far end of the couch, making room for Shepard. Whiskey didn’t give her the chance to take up the space before leaping up onto the cushions just before Shepard sat down. She stopped and picked the small dog up, moving him to the side before sitting on her legs on the couch, leaning her side against the backrest.

“No. Well, I did, but that’s not it,” she then said.  
“I really don’t like where I can sense this going,” Samantha muttered, and Shepard wasn’t about to try sugar coating it or denying it.

“Sam, we can’t have children.”  
“Don’t tell me that.”

“Sam, listen to me. What Lilith was… and what I am…” Shepard began in a mumble. She explained to Samantha what she’d learned today about Lilith, what she’d learned about herself and her mother, what she worried about and why. As she’d expected, Samantha argued with her over it, made it perfectly clear she couldn’t understand how Shepard was willing to believe such nonsense, how she could believe that what she’d learned today would be a reason enough to not have children and isolate herself from everyone.

“To protect the people around you,” she spat mockingly, “do you know how stupid that sounds?”  
“Maybe it does sound stupid, but it doesn’t erase the facts! You know me! You know what I can do when I get pissed off!”

“Yeah, you blow up Collector-bases and reapers!”

“I kill people! What kind of a parent do you honestly think I’d make!” Shepard yelled, her loud voice causing Whiskey to burrow into the couch cushions to hide and making Admiral and Krauser flatten themselves against the floor. They couldn’t have known she wasn’t yelling at them.

“When Janae climbs all over you or begins that incessant nagging kids her age do, how do you react? I’ve never heard you raise your voice at her, I’ve never seen you swat her to the side, you’ve just told her to calm down and be patient, like any decent parent would do! You’re a good parent!” Samantha yelled back. She stood up furiously, her hands on her hips as she paced back and forth agitatedly.

“Why won’t you just say what this is really about?” she demanded.  
“What do you mean?” Shepard frowned.

“Just admit that you don’t want kids with _me_ and be done with it, but I’m through listening to your damn excuses about how you’re just evil because of your genes. There is nothing wrong with you, at least not genetically!” Samantha argued and turned on her heel furiously, heading out of the room with agitated strides.

“Sam…!”  
“Oh, bugger off, Shepard!” she spat over her shoulder as she went.

* * *

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever really been certain that people love me because of me and not just because of who they think I am,” Shepard grumbled into her glass of bourbon. She raised her hand and the bartender grabbed a bottle and refilled her glass. It was the hundred-and-twenty-something proof kind which went down surprisingly smoothly despite being so strong. It going down so smoothly also made it a devious drink; she could drink it like it was nothing, but it would hit her like hell out of the blue.

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound confusing at all,” Miranda smirked sarcastically and leaned back against the bar. When Shepard had asked her if she wanted to join her for a drink, Miranda hadn’t expected this to turn into a night of her having to play shrink to Shepard. Granted, if there was anyone in the galaxy in need of a good psychiatrist, it was Shepard. Miranda didn’t believe she was qualified for the role, though. A rare thing for her to believe and even rarer to admit.

“Liara was interested in me because of the Prothean-junk that beacon fried into my brain. At least, that’s where it started. Samantha’s interested in me because… well, probably because of all the stories she’d heard of me. It’s not like we had a chance to really get to know each other before everything. Oh, and let’s not forget that I’m nowadays a whopping forty-two percent cybernetic...”

“You’re welcome,” Miranda interjected.

“…and Sam has a thing for robots. Hell, for all I know she wanted to sleep with me just to see if my back lights up when we have sex,” Shepard said, and Miranda coughed after inhaling the wine she’d been sipping. Shepard didn’t sip, she took large swallows.

“I did not need to know that,” she said in between coughs. “…but, for the record, your back doesn’t light up, does it?” she quirked an eyebrow and Shepard snorted.  
“It does not, and you should’ve seen how disappointed she was when she realized that.”

“I doubt it was genuine disappointment,” Miranda rolled her eyes.

“As for the people who came before them, I’d already gotten a reputation as the one who survived Akuze. And prior to that, I was the kid whose ‘mother’ could provide them with drugs, of course everyone wanted to be my friends!” Shepard continued her rant.

“How about you stop whining for five minutes and tell me how can you expect anyone to love you for who you really are if you never show that side of yourself to anyone? You can’t blame Samantha or anyone else for loving the image of Commander Shepard if you’ve never given them more than a glimpse of who you are underneath that image and the reputation comes with it,” Miranda reasoned.

“What if the woman underneath doesn’t deserve the love but really needs it? What if she’s terrified of admitting that deep down, she’s still nothing more than a scared little kid?”  
“I’d say she’s drunk and feeling dramatic. Then I’d tell her to get her crap together before her irrational fears will cost her the love of her life _and_ her well-deserved shot at having a normal life at last.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Shepard scoffed.

“Never said it would be easy… but I’ve already seen you do the impossible, twice. Frankly, I’m convinced that if things are too easy, you subconsciously find a way to complicate them unnecessarily because you don’t know how to be at ease. Or maybe you just enjoy being stressed out and miserable,” Miranda shrugged in fake-innocence. Some people wanted solutions to their problems, others wanted to complain. Miranda had never seen any reason to put Shepard into the latter category and she wasn’t about to now either.

“But, what do I know; I’m a lot of things, but a shrink isn’t one of them,” she then smiled and finished her wine.  

***


	6. Rewind

“You are sure?” Liara asked for what had to be the hundredth time.

“Believe me, this is not a request I made lightly,” Samantha told her. Frankly, neither one of them was sure if this was such a good idea, mostly because neither had asked for Shepard’s input or permission. But, as Samantha had pointed out, it wasn’t like she was asking for Shepard’s memories per se, she was asking for Liara’s memories regarding… Shepard’s memories.

 _Great, we haven’t even started, and I’ve already given myself a headache,_ Samantha mused. She couldn’t say why she was expecting to get a headache afterward; there was just something about having another person’s mind meld with yours that made her feel like a headache would be a likely after effect.

“I understand, but I need you to be certain because this isn’t something you will be able to undo if it turns out to be too much,” Liara reasoned.  
“I know what the stakes are. But I need to at least try and understand her and why she is saying the things she’s saying,” Samantha muttered.

Maybe this would be a revelation and she’d come to realize that Shepard was right to say she shouldn’t have children. Maybe this would help Samantha come up with a way to talk some sense into Shepard. Maybe neither. But the fact remained that if Shepard would refuse to have a child with her, Samantha would have to leave her.

She didn’t want to, but as much as she loved her, this was something she had to insist on; this was the one thing she refused to compromise on even for Shepard.

“May I ask you something personal?” Samantha then inquired and Liara let out a quiet laugh.  
“Considering what we’re about to do here, I think a personal question is okay.”

“…how do you get over someone like Shepard?”  
Liara’s smile disappeared from her lips in an instant and her silence was an answer enough.

_You don’t._

“Are you ready?” she inquired instead of answering the question directly.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” Samantha nodded. She expected to get the commonly used phrase “Embrace eternity” as a warning, but she didn’t get it. Instead, she found herself engulfed in an unfamiliar warmth, accompanied by the feeling of not being alone, conscious of the other mind melding with hers. It wasn’t uncomfortable or invasive like she’d assumed it might be.

Shortly after, her mind was bombarded with reflections of the memories Shepard had shared with Liara, some of them overlapping with Liara’s version of the events when she’d been there with Shepard. Fragments of disappointment and hurt mottled with such strong feelings of longing and love that it made Samantha’s chest ache… and it made her a little queasy with jealousy.

_I don’t know. Marriage, old age, and a lot of little blue children?_

Some of it was her own but there were flecks of more, fragments of Liara’s jealousy from the time Samantha had first made a move on Shepard. In her defense, she hadn’t known Shepard was still with Liara at the time, based on the gossip she’d heard onboard the Normandy had suggested they’d broken up months ago. This was the first time Samantha was realizing she’d accidentally played the role of “the other woman”. She couldn’t say she enjoyed the revelation.

 _Shepard, I heard about you and Samantha._  
_Liara, I…_  
_Be with whoever you want to be with. I’m just not interested in playing games anymore._

It was as if Liara had gotten lost in thought, in her own memory when thinking back on Shepard. She silently apologized and dug in deeper, focusing on Shepard, on her buried memories she hadn’t even realized Liara had discovered.

_If I ever catch you selling on my corner again, I will tie you to a tree and lead a trail of ants into every damn orifice in your pathetic body!_

The one time Lilith had been the protective parent and roughed up the kid who’d beaten Shepard up and stolen her product. Granted, it was doubtful Lilith had gone to Shepard’s aid just to help her daughter, rather she was interested in making sure her rivals thought twice before sneaking to sell in her territory.

Then pain. So much of it and in so many different forms it hurt to experience it even through another person who’d extracted it from nothing more than a distant memory.

_You’re fine. You’re fine! Shut up, you’re fine!_

Shepard’s own voice, thick with exaggerated anger to hide her own terror. Akuze. Her squadmates screaming. The thresher maws screeching and shrieking as they attacked. Bright red blood covering Shepard’s hands as she tried to frantically tuck her squadmate’s intestines back into his body. The stinging and burning sensation when the thresher maw’s acid corroded through her armor and onto her skin, blistering it, trying to eat through it.

_Every decision I make is life or death, why am I the only one who gets a second chance?_

Anger, hatred, guilt, all-consuming fear, crushing pressure of everything piling on her shoulders. Despair. Everything in a burst of images and echoes of voices, like watching a fast-forwarded vid but still being able to comprehend it. And then it was over as abruptly as it had begun, leaving Samantha feeling stunned and reeling from all the things she’d just experienced. Even the mere reflections of what Shepard had felt were more painful than anything Samantha had experienced before, she couldn’t even begin to imagine how terrible it had to have been for Shepard when she’d gone through it all first hand. Samantha had to sit down.

“Are you all right?” Liara asked.  
“Yes, I’m fine, I just…” Samantha shook her head a little, not knowing how to finish that sentence.

“It’s intense, believe me, I know,” Liara said, her voice quieting with each word, the end of the sentence almost inaudible.  
“Liara… about Shepard and I… I didn’t know that you two were… I’m sorry.”

“Why?” she asked, and Samantha frowned deeply, wasn’t it obvious?  
“You didn’t do anything wrong, you didn’t break Shepard and I up; Shepard did that,” Liara explained.

“I still feel bad about it.”  
“You don’t have to, I don’t blame you for anything. Besides, it all worked out in the end,” Liara said with a smile that was genuine and enough to assure Samantha she meant what she said.

* * *

 

Shepard snuck into the house, thankful that the dogs didn’t seem to notice. It was late, and Shepard was rather drunk, she didn’t really want to run into Samantha right now. The dogs were probably upstairs, sleeping on the bed, occupying Shepard’s side since she wasn’t there. Today, she didn’t mind, she didn’t want to wake Samantha. She kicked off her shoes and went to the living room, then slumped onto the couch and heard a tiny gnarling whimper emanate from the cushions.

“You’re still there?” she asked from Whiskey, having discovered the small dog still hiding in his favorite spot. She supposed he hadn’t spent the entire evening hiding in the couch, she certainly hoped so. Shepard settled to lie down on the couch and Whiskey walked over her, curling up on her chest.

“At least you still like me,” she smiled and ran her hand over his back. She figured she shouldn’t have favorites but, in all honesty, Whiskey was her favorite and not just because he was the only dog in the household who had not attempted to eat Mister Janeway The Second, her space hamster, but because he was the least likely to cause serious property damage if he decided to go rogue.

“What is wrong with me? I mean, the more I think about everything, the less sense it makes to me. The less sense I make to myself,” Shepard muttered. Whiskey yawned in response.

“Maybe Miranda was right, maybe I do destroy everything on purpose because I just don’t know how to be normal and at peace. How could I, turmoil is all I’ve ever known. Hell, I should ask Javik how he does it,” Shepard muttered. Whiskey had already fallen asleep; apparently, he wouldn’t be serving as her therapist for the evening. That didn’t keep Shepard from chatting to him. At least she didn’t have to pay him for the sessions.

“You’re right. It doesn’t make any sense, does it?” Shepard smirked and lazily scratched behind the dog’s ear. Whiskey began to snore.  
“Shepard.”

“Sam, I didn’t realize you were still awake,” she said, turning to look over her shoulder. Samantha went to sit on the very edge of the couch, looking like she wanted to tell Shepard something but hesitated.  
“What’s wrong?” Shepard asked.

“Nothing exactly, I just… I did something I probably shouldn’t have.”  
“Did you steal that dog you were talking about the other day?” Shepard narrowed her eyes. Samantha laughed a little and shook her head.

“No, I… spoke to Liara,” she began and went on to confess to asking Liara to show her everything. Shepard listened, then slowly cradled Whiskey in her arms to keep the dog from falling off her chest when she sat up. He let out a disgruntled mewl and scampered down from the couch.

“Are you upset with me? I mean, I understand if you are,” Samantha said.  
“Nah. Not really. You should’ve asked me, but… what are the odds I would’ve just told you everything, right?” Shepard sighed. “So, learn anything interesting?” she then asked.

“Plenty. For one that you never told me that you and Liara were still a couple when you and I first got together.”

“Oh.”  
“Yeah, ‘oh’. That was awkward.”

“Well, it’s… not like I planned it, but you showed up and you were cute, and things happened, I didn’t juggle you two intentionally, so don’t make it sound like that.”

“You should’ve told her. You should’ve told me. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have… do you have any idea how humiliating it was to realize I’d thrown myself at someone else’s spouse?” Samantha said in exasperation.  
“I would’ve told her, I was just waiting for the right moment and while I did, she already heard about it from someone else, so it’s not really my fault, she would’ve heard it from me… eventually,” Shepard said sheepishly.

“Well, that particular screw up isn’t what’s bothering me exactly, it’s just a part of it; what’s bothering me is the fact that recently it’s been like I don’t even know who you are. I didn’t think you were a cheater but considering our relationship began as something akin to an adulterous affair, I have to re-evaluate that completely. I also didn’t think… you’d ever say you don’t want children.”

“Samantha…”

“I could deal with the other things, I could deal with feeling a bit paranoid about your comings and goings in a world full of temptations, but when you told me you wouldn’t have a child with me…” she spoke over before Shepard could argue, “I had to seriously consider my own wants. I needed to consider leaving you over this because… as much as I can’t even imagine my life without you, I also can’t stay with you if it means that I won’t—”

“Samantha, listen to me…”

“No, you listen to me, okay?” she said irritably. “The truth is, one doesn’t just get over someone like you, but I don’t know if I could stay with you without resenting you over this. I don’t know if I could go on with my life without you, but, for my own sake, I might have to at least try.”

“I don’t want you to,” Shepard said hoarsely.  
“It’s not about what you want, Shepard. Not this time,” Samantha muttered.

“No, I know… sorry. But I meant that you don’t have to do that.”

“Why, because you’ve again taken the privilege of changing your mind? And tomorrow you’ll come up with some new thing to excuse yourself from going through with it. I have no intention of wasting any more of my time waiting for you to make up your mind,” she said.

“I understand why you’re frustrated and I’m sorry I’ve put you through this. It was never my intention. I’m… working on it. I’ve, actually, uhm… made an appointment with someone to see if I could get my head back on straight,” Shepard said, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly.

“Well. Good,” Samantha said, not knowing what else there was to say or what Shepard was expecting her to say. Frankly, Samantha had prepared for more arguing. Shepard reached to take her hands into her own.

“Just… bear with me a little longer. I’m trying. And if it turns out it’s not working then I won’t argue, and I won’t hold you back if you want to leave. But I’m asking for you to just… wait a little longer.”

“A little longer,” Samantha repeated after a long pause. “I can do that.”

***


	7. Echo

Shepard couldn’t stop staring at Doctor Kennedy’s hair. It was a dirty-blond color, short in the back and longer in the front, parted on the left, but not hanging over his eyes despite looking like he hadn’t used any product. It was like his hair was immune to gravity. Either that or he had discovered some amazing product no one had bothered telling Shepard about. Her hair was always in her eyes unless she tucked it behind her ear or used so much gel, mousse, wax and hair spray that the products fixed her hair into a hard layer that eventually began to droop over her eyes anyway.

“Would you call yourself fearless?” he asked. His tone wasn’t the type she’d used to hearing whenever someone asked her something similar. Unlike everyone else, he didn’t sound like he was mocking her for making such a statement. He was simply asking.

“Not anymore. It was different some years ago. I was younger and alone, I didn’t have to worry about the people waiting for me back home. Me not coming back home from a mission wouldn’t have affected anyone’s life.”  
“But that’s changed.”

“Obviously. Besides, in my line of work being ‘fearless’ is just as bad as being plain stupid. Bravery is one thing but boasting about fearlessness is foolish.”  
“What are you afraid of now?”

“Failing,” she said. Doctor Kennedy nodded and remained silent. It was clear he wanted her to explain herself further, but he didn’t push her, he knew she was aware of him expecting more than a single-word response from her.  
“I’m afraid I’ll turn into my father and I’m afraid of passing those traits onto my children which is why I’m afraid of going through the procedure and becoming a parent myself… which in return makes me afraid of failing my relationship with Samantha.”

“Apart from your genetic predisposition, have you ever noticed behavioral patterns in yourself which would imply that you are likely to turn into your father?” he asked. Shepard had spent a couple of her sessions cataloguing the things she’d gone through while in Lilith’s care, Doctor Kennedy was more than aware of how that had been like by now.

“What do you mean?”  
“Have you ever lost your temper unprompted?”

“I don’t know, I probably have,” Shepard sighed.  
“Have you ever been violent toward Samantha?”

“No!”  
“Your daughter?”

“No!” Shepard denied again.  
“Toward anyone else who didn’t pose a threat to you in any way, have you behaved the way your father did?”

“Not toward people I consider my friends and family.”

“If you’d never discovered anything about your parents and if you passed all the medical examinations with flying colors, would we be having this conversation, or would Samantha already be expecting your child?” he asked. Shepard opened her mouth to tell him that of course but swallowed her answer when she realized that would’ve been a lie. She’d put off the procedure long before she’d even looked at the data about her parents. But why?

“Do you want children?”  
“Yes, that’s not the issue, I’ve always wanted kids,” Shepard responded.

“All right, so what is the real problem?” he inquired, and she could not think of an answer.  
“What’s your relationship with your daughter like?” he then asked after she’d been silent for a long while.

“It’s, you know, just… like you’d expect it is when a couple who have gone their separate ways have a child together. Janae spends most of her time with her mother. I mean, I didn’t even know about her until she’d already turned two.”  
“You didn’t exactly answer my question.”

“She spends time with me, we have fun, we play games, hang out, do what parents usually do with their kids.”  
“Yes, I get that you’re very involved in her life, but what is your relationship with her like?” Doctor Kennedy asked once more.

“Honestly?” Shepard sighed. “I don’t feel like a parent, at all. I care about her and I’d commit atrocities to protect her but… I’m more like an aunt she spends every other week with, not a proper parent. I don’t know if it’s because I wasn’t there when she was a baby or what, but… I don’t have that ‘fire’ that parents usually have.”

“In other words, you haven’t really emotionally bonded with your daughter,” Doctor Kennedy said, and it was more of a statement than a question.  
“It’s not that I don’t want to.”

“I’m sure you do, but can you honestly say that you love her?” he pushed, and Shepard wanted to snap at him and question his integrity and how he even had the nerve to ask something like that, the answer should’ve been obvious. But it wasn’t.

“It’s kind of a taboo to admit in a world where parents are expected to instantly love their children, but more than often it takes time. The fact that you weren’t even aware of Janae’s existence until she was already a toddler probably just made it harder for her to get through the emotional defenses you’ve built as a child when you had to survive a very abusive environment,” he said.

“I do love her, but it’s not like in vids or in other parents’ stories,” Shepard finally half-agreed.  
“So, since you’ve had difficulty forming an emotional bond to Janae, is it possible that you’ve been putting off having a child with Samantha because you’re afraid you will fail at bonding emotionally with your second baby?” he finally got to the point.

“…I refuse to be that obvious,” Shepard said, pretending to pout but not being able to because that was the best answer she’d heard to the question “why?” she’d been faced with. And the more she thought about it, the more sense it made.

“I am afraid of turning into my father, just not in the sense that I thought I was. I’m afraid of being that cold and demeaning parent she was to me. And my obvious failure to form a proper bond with Janae has made me compare myself to the only parent-figure I ever had growing up, and… damn, you’re good, Kennedy.”

“It’s what you pay me for,” he chuckled softly. “I do think we still have a lot of work to do but this is a good start,” he then smiled.

* * *

 

When Shepard woke and jolted up, she dove right into Samantha’s arms. Apparently, her tossing and turning had woken Samantha up long before it had escalated to be so bad Shepard woke herself, and Samantha had been waiting for her.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Samantha whispered and rubbed soothing circles onto Shepard’s back, noticing the fabric of her T-shirt was damp with sweat.  
“Sam,” Shepard breathed heavily, burying her face tightly into the spot between Samantha’s neck and shoulder, her arms tightening around Samantha as she gripped her frantically.

“It’s okay,” she repeated softly and ran her fingers through Shepard’s hair.  
“I remember.”

“You remember what?”

“What happened to my mother. At least some of it," Shepard muttered and slowly pulled away from the embrace, turning to sit on the edge of the bed. Samantha got closer to her and sat on her legs, moving to wrap her arms around Shepard from behind, resting her head on Shepard’s shoulder.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” she whispered. Shepard placed her arm over Samantha’s and leaned her head down, nuzzling against Samantha’s skin. She smelled like cherry bark and almonds. Shepard had always liked that scent, from day one when she’d taken it upon herself to lean in a bit closer than was absolutely necessary and inhaled the scent when she’d met Samantha for the first time when she’d given her the quick tour of the new Normandy. She didn’t know it, but Samantha had noticed.

“I told you about my earliest memory, right?”  
“Yes, you were sitting in your mother’s lap outside in a storm,” Samantha said.

“The way Lilith told it, it was my fault we were out there, but it wasn’t. It was hers. She was fighting with mother over something and it startled me,” Shepard muttered. 

She was quiet for a long time, gathering her thoughts, piecing it all together. Not all of it was there, not all of it made sense, but the overall picture of the events had begun to take some kind of shape. It probably would’ve happened sooner if she’d thought about it, but she’d had no need to until recently. With all the prompting Doctor Kennedy had made and with everything she’d dug up herself, it was slowly coming back.

“We sat outside… and then, she was shot, from behind. I remember that because there was so much blood on me… from the exit wound, you know?” Shepard muttered, the muscles in her jaw clenching as she kept grinding her teeth together in an attempt to force back the lump forming in her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut as tight as she could and eventually the spatter of white dots appearing drowned the mental image of her mother with a grotesque exit wound in her head. The bullet had taken out most of her forehead with it.

“I don’t know who shot her. I don’t know anything from there to later, I don’t know,” Shepard said through clenched teeth, blinking rapidly to dispel the tears that were stinging in her eyes.  
“Shepard… I can’t even imagine…” Samantha whispered and hugged her tightly.

“I sho— I should’ve… remembered her sooner,” Shepard stammered when the tears began to erupt, and she was no longer able to control them.

She cried, her sobs silent and hidden like they always were, to hide her feelings from anyone who might notice. Shepard was relatively certain the only one who’d ever known the truth about just how often she broke down in tears was EDI who was the only one who could’ve witnessed it during the war.

She hadn’t let Liara see herself like that, ever. And even Samantha had seen it only once before, but those had been tears of relief that she’d cried when she’d woken up in the hospital after the war and realized she was still alive, that Samantha was alive and right there.

“All right… I think I’m done crying now,” Shepard muttered then, sniffling and wiping the tears from her nose and chin with the back of her hand before drying her eyes.

“I’m okay,” she then said and they both knew it couldn’t possibly be true. Samantha didn’t argue with that, she knew better.  
Instead, she said, “You don’t have to be.”

***


	8. Cinnamon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first half of this chapter exists mostly as a comedic relief and because I was determined to incorporate the words “Licking blue bitches” into this story because my friend, Themulletwhisperer, read a message I sent wrong and it turned into that and I vowed to find a way to use it. I assure you the misspelled words and other errors are intentional as well. I must also thank him for coming up with the terrible title for the "vid" referenced later in the chapter. :)

Shepard sat down at her desk and vigorously mixed the chocolate flavored protein pudding in a mug before taking a taste. It was a bit lumpy and there was a familiar artificial taste to it, but she’d gotten to hate it less over the years. “It’s just fuel for your body” had been her mantra for the longest time whenever she’d forced herself to eat something that had horrible flavor or alternatively had no flavor at all.

She had to wonder if Miranda had been right when she’d stated that perhaps Shepard just enjoyed being miserable. She could’ve had something else for her post-workout meal, but instead she’d gone with the semi-bad tasting protein pudding. 

Shepard opened her email and scrolled through the messages. Junk mail. Newsletters from sites she’d once signed up for to get the ten percent discount and never visited again but also never remembered to cancel the newsletter either. Some actual business emails from people requesting to use her likeness in their projects for a fee. Shepard marked those for later reading, sighing internally when she realized that still, even after all these years and after everything she’d done since, she was still essentially whoring herself out.

“I made myself sad,” she said to Admiral who lay on the floor next to her chair, his muzzle resting on her foot. She’d tried teaching him to not do that because she didn’t want to risk accidentally rolling over him with her chair or stepping on him, but no matter how many times she shooed the dog away, he always returned to the same spot.

Shepard’s eyebrow rose when she got to the last unopened message, the sender going by the name Gabe H. Cuod and the title of the message a somewhat ominous “i made this for you sheperd”.

“I already regret this decision,” Shepard mumbled to herself but admittedly, she was curious. She opened the message and it contained just a link to what appeared to be a website hosting fanfiction.

This wasn’t the first time someone had taken it upon themselves to send Shepard stories or links to them. The people sending them called themselves her devoted fans but still apparently loved to see her humiliated in stories they’d written about her. Stories riddled with degenerate acts of sexual violence that made Shepard question the author’s mental health and hope that the people sending her the rape-fantasies would get arrested before they escalated into doing it in real life. If they hadn’t already.

“Well… this can’t be worse than the story in which I was fucked by a varren,” Shepard muttered to herself when she read the title and the summary of the story Gabe H. Cuod had sent her.

 _Licking blue bitches – the story of how sheperd REALLY got the councel to help.  
_ “Why do I do this to myself?” Shepard sighed and opened the page containing the story, discovering the author certainly didn’t waste much time with opening scenes or introductions. 

* * *

_"request for help denied. goodbye commander.”_

_“well then kiss my ass councelor!” sheperd screamed badassfully and turned. she dropped her pants and mooned the councel. the asari councerol ordered sheperd into her office like a principle’s office when still in school. sheperd went there. she stood infront of tevos seductively.  
"are you sure there is nothing i can do to convince you to reconsider helping earth?” sheperd asked seductively. _

_“there is one thing,” the asari answered and sat on the edge of her desk spreading her legs and revealing her azure that was already dripping with her juicy love nectar. sheperd immediately kneeled down and sunk her head between tevos’ legs. her pussy was flooding with fuck-slime like something from the bible. sheperd could almost hear it throbbing in anticipation.  
“that’s a good human, lick that tight juicy pussy like you mean it!”_

_sheperd started licking with long determined licks. sheped’s tongue was tough and soft and demanding causing undescribable pleasure and tevos could only scream out her pleasure and lust. she couldn’t think of anything other than the squirming tongue inside her and then sheperd took it up a notch. she went lower plunging her tongue into the asari’s chocolate starfish and_

* * *

When she read that, Shepard put the spoon back into the mug of pudding and pushed it to the edge of the desk.

“And that’s enough of that,” she muttered, having lost her appetite, for the chocolate pudding as well as the badly written story. The least the author could’ve done was to get hername right, but apparently it was still too much to ask. She wished she could’ve said it was an uncommon mistake.

“What are you doing?” Samantha asked when she walked into the room and noticed the expression Shepard had on her face. She looked like she’d just smelled something horrible.  
“I was just checking my messages. And entertaining myself.”

“Have you been reading fanfiction about yourself again?” Samantha rolled her eyes and moved to stand behind Shepard to be able to look over her shoulder.

Usually, Shepard didn’t read them, not unless it was something hilariously bad that Joker had taken upon himself to send her because he’d thought she’d find it as amusing as he did. Most of the time he was right. But, in general, Shepard had learned long ago to not look herself up on the Extranet.

“Well, Gabe H. Cuod here went through the trouble of writing over three hundred thousand words about me giving head to councilor Tevos, the least I can do is look at it,” Shepard smirked.  
“You do realize Gabe H. Cuod spells ‘douchebag’ backwards?” Samantha pointed out after pondering on it for a while.

“Where do I know that from?” Shepard wondered out loud.

“He’s the guy who wrote the porno Joker was kind enough to forward to you a few months back. Remember, the live action one with two guys dressed as reapers doing ‘Commander Sheperd’. The actress’s wig fell off in the middle of it and they didn’t even bother to cut that part out.”

“Ah, yes, ‘The Raper war’. That was terrible all around,” Shepard recalled as Samantha leaned down, her arms wrapping around Shepard from behind. She nuzzled into the side of Shepard’s neck and inhaled deeply. Shepard would’ve felt self-conscious about having someone sniff her after she’d just gotten home from the gym, her sweat barely dried yet, but not with Samantha; she’d told her she liked the way Shepard smelled when she was a bit sweaty.

When Shepard had remarked she thought Samantha was being weird, she’d told Shepard that there was nothing weird about it; according to her, it was just mother nature’s way of saying they were genetically different enough to have healthy offspring. Shepard still found it weird.

“Wanna go to the bedroom and make a sex-vid of our own?” she murmured into Shepard’s ear.  
“After reading what I just read, I don’t think I’ll ever become sexually aroused again,” Shepard said in mock-seriousness.

“Is that a challenge?” Samantha inquired.  
“It definitely is.”

* * *

“Let’s do it,” Shepard said, turning to lay on her back, still trying to catch her breath.

“You’re insatiable, we just did it, didn’t we? Because if not, then why am I sticky and naked?” Samantha huffed a little and settled to lay on her side, resting her head on Shepard’s shoulder, sticky with sweat but comfortable regardless in the sweetheart’s cradle.

“No, I mean… let’s do it, let’s have a baby,” Shepard elaborated with a chuckle and turned to press a long kiss onto Samantha’s forehead.  
“If you take this back in the morning when whatever post-coital hormone cocktail you’re high on right now fades, I will feed you and your hamster to the dogs,” Samantha threatened.

“Not the hamster!” Shepard gasped.  
“Well, okay, you’re right, he hasn’t done anything to deserve it. Terrible jokes aside, Shepard… I need you to be absolutely certain about this because I refuse to let you get my hopes up for no good reason.”

“I won’t chicken out. This is what I want, and I’ve decided that… you know, it doesn’t matter what my parents were like, what they did. I mean, I still wanna know what happened there exactly, but… I’m not gonna let it overshadow our lives like I have up until now,” Shepard explained.

“I still feel like I should say something like ‘I’ll believe it when I’ll see it’, but I’m not feeling venomous enough for that,” Samantha vexed, and Shepard chuckled, reaching to run her fingers through Samantha’s damp hair.  
“I wouldn’t blame you. My point is… I’m gonna do better than my parents did. I’m not Lilith, and I won’t become her either.”

“I could’ve told you that weeks ago…”  
“I know, but some things you have to figure out yourself to believe them, you know?” Shepard said. Samantha nodded.

“Have you thought about any names for the baby?” Shepard then asked, her smile audible in her voice.  
“A few, but you can’t really name a baby until you’ve met the baby.”

“So, let’s hear them.”  
“Well… I like the name Artemis.”

“Me too, but the thing is, it ends in the letter S, combine that with Shepard and when you say it, it turns into mush. ‘Artemissshhhepuurd’, you hear the problem?”  
“Excuse me, when did we agree that the baby would take your last name?” Samantha scoffed and rose to rest her weight on her forearm so that she could glare at Shepard.

“I just assumed we’d all have the same last name, and let’s face it, saying you’re a Shepard gets you into everywhere,” she smiled confidently, tucking her arm under her head.  
“It can also get you shot if you happen to be in the wrong crowd while they figure out you’re a Shepard.”

“Too soon, Sammy.”  
“I didn’t mean—” she exclaimed but Shepard grinned mischievously. Samantha sighed, not particularly enjoying being teased.

“Besides, I don’t have your last name either!” she then said, her eyebrow quirked.  
“I know, and that’s a shame. That’s such a shame,” Shepard pouted in exaggerated seriousness. “If only there was something we could do about that.”

“If this is your idea of a proposal, I’ll have you know that you’re doing a very half-assed job,” Samantha scoffed. Shepard pursed her lips and shrugged one shoulder.  
“Well, before I put my whole ass into it…” she began, and Samantha burst out laughing. “How would you feel about being missus Maxima Shepard?”

“If you asked, I’d probably feel like telling you that it was about time you make an honest woman out of me,” Samantha smirked. Shepard put her arm around Samantha’s shoulders and gently pulled on her until she lay on top of Shepard.

“I’ll remember that,” she smiled and wrapped her legs around Samantha’s waist. She ran her hands over Samantha’s back, slowly sliding them lower, finally stopping to give her buttocks as firm squeeze.  
“Wanna get all sticky again?” she grinned. Samantha didn’t respond; instead she grinned back and leaned to kiss Shepard deeply with newly found eagerness.

***


	9. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sister Andromeda’s “poetry” is a mashup of excerpts from the Nightwish songs “She is my sin”, “Bare grace misery”, and “Passion and the opera".

_I can do better than my parents did. I_ will _do better,_ Shepard repeated the words that had become her mantra in the past month. She’d finally taken the first steps into conceiving a child with Samantha. As far as Shepard’s contribution went, the first stage was done, her stem cells were ready to be harvested from her blood stream. That meant she’d need to spend the day at the clinic and lie still while her blood was recycled. Thankfully, she had plenty of things to occupy her mind with. Namely, the data she’d collected from Lilith’s house, and the data Liara had provided after Shepard had asked the Shadow Broker to look up everything there was to find about Lilith Shepard and Andromeda Sinclair.

Shepard opened a report from 2128 when Lilith had been fourteen years old. The report was from a research facility owned by a pharmaceutical company by the name of Neo-Umbrella. In it, Lilith (or “subject 8472” as she was referred to in the report attached to her name) was described as a recipient of a viral injection used to infect her cells to transfer genes which were to replace the defected genes in Lilith’s body… except in her case, the “defective” genes were her normal genes being replaced with those which would promote certain traits, such as strength, a lesser need for sleep, intelligence, height.

In the end, the experiment had been marked as failed because there wasn’t enough data to repeat the process safely without accidentally activating genes which in adults would have negative effect, such as genes which were responsible for growing body parts while the embryo was still in the womb and such an ability was required.

 _Oh, God,_ Shepard gasped internally when she saw pictures of the failed experiments which had followed the research team’s trial with Lilith; people with extra limbs, grotesque tumors and other terrifying disorders that should’ve been eradicated long ago. Whatever they had accomplished with Lilith apparently hadn’t been enough.

Shepard did a quick search for Neo-Umbrella and discovered they had been a pharmaceutical company which had been driven to the ground after stories of their immoral experiments had been made public. They’d tried producing their own breed of some kind of super soldiers for their paramilitary.

 _Not very different from Cerberus… or Alliance black ops. Granted, their purposes seem to have been more selfish and greedier,_ Shepard mused.

The report stated that Lilith had been brought to take part in the experiment by her parents who had needed the money to pay for Lilith’s tuition to Ravenwood academy. Sighing, Shepard did another search since the academy’s name didn’t say anything to her.

“Huh,” she humphed out loud. Ravenwood academy was a school for kids who could be described as musical prodigies. Shepard couldn’t recall ever seeing or hearing Lilith play an instrument or even hum. Whatever had happened to her since the experiment must have somehow broken her badly for her to quit if she’d indeed been a prodigy. Shepard scoffed at herself when she realized she was actually feeling bad for Lilith.

Aside from that, there wasn’t much information available. Lilith had been born in Corpus Christi, Texas, an only child, moved to Canada with her parents to attend the academy. The rest of the information consisted mainly of arrest records, but Shepard had no interest in those; there was no mention of what had happened to Lilith’s parents. She turned her attention to Andromeda’s files. There wasn’t much in those either.

She’d been from a devout Catholic family, the youngest of thirteen children, joined a convent at eighteen and remained there roughly twenty years before leaving the order. No record of her parents or siblings, Shepard was relatively certain Andromeda would’ve been disowned after the truth regarding her relationship with Lilith came out.

Shepard switched to another datapad, this one she’d taken from Lilith’s safe.  She rerouted the audio into her earpiece and began to play back the video logs.

 _“What are you doing, Andi?”_ Lilith asked from a tall blonde who had full lips and blue eyes. She was slender apart from the obvious pregnancy.  
_“I’m just cleaning up for baby Jesus’s birthday.”_

 _“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”  
“Don’t take that tone of voice with me, Lili,”_ Andromeda rolled her eyes and Lilith chuckled.

 _“Look what I found,”_ Lilith then said and presented Andromeda with a fluffy orange tabby and she visibly recoiled.  
_“Cats are evil creatures, get rid of it!”_

 _“Evil? Come on, it’s just a God damn kitty-cat, and a cute one at that.”  
“God damn is right, I don’t want it in the house!”_ Andromeda snapped, and the image shook a little as Lilith set the camera down.

_“For Christ’s sakes, Andi!”  
“What did you say?”_

_“Christ. Christ-Christ-Christ!”_ Lilith taunted.  
_“I think we should pray.”_

 _“Oh, I’d rather go stab myself in the eye with a used toothpick,”_ Lilith groaned and walked across the frame and out of it cradling the cat in her arms, the sound of the door slamming behind her loud. Andromeda sighed and reached to turn the camera off, ending the recording.

Shepard played the next few ones and as she watched, she came to realize Lilith had actually been very excited about having a child. She was a completely different person in the vids. Caring, loving, nurturing.

 _“When you’re born and a little older, I’m gonna teach you how to play the piano. Yeah, I reckon you’d really like that,”_ Lilith was saying in the vid, her words directed to Andromeda’s swollen belly.

“I would’ve liked that, why didn’t you?” Shepard asked from the image. The nurse who had come by to check on the progress of the procedure gave her a surprised glance.

“Sorry, just talking back to a vid,” Shepard chuckled awkwardly.  
“Yeah, I do that too, but the characters never seem to listen,” he chuckled and continued his work, letting Shepard get back to her vid.

 _“Oh, play something! You haven’t done that in ages,”_ Andromeda requested. Lilith agreed and went to the piano (which Shepard had never seen before even though the video had been shot in the same house she’d grown up in). She sat down and began to play, her fingers nimbly skipping from one key to the next, occasionally at such speeds they seemed to become just a blur, and yet, she never missed a key or hit the wrong one.

 _“Why didn’t you ever play professionally?”_ Andromeda asked over the sound of Lilith’s playing.  
_“It was never what I wanted, it was something my parents forced upon me after discovering I had a talent. So, they did everything in their power to make sure they’d be able to profit of having me.”_

 _“Are you sure they weren’t just being overly encouraging?”  
“Believe me, there’s a difference between encouraging your kid and straight up telling them you consider them useless unless they succeed in what you tell them to do,” _ Lilith said.

“Oh, come on, what the hell?” Shepard muttered out loud. The nurse smiled at her, apparently still thinking Shepard was watching a movie.

Everything Lilith was saying and yet, she’d behaved just like that toward Shepard… who hadn’t even known she was biologically Lilith’s. Being a demeaning jerk to your children seemed to run in the family.

 _Am I like that? No. And I won’t be in the future either. I’m going to break the cycle,_ Shepard mused. If there was something she was famous for, it was breaking cycles, even against impossible odds.

Still, none of what she’d seen so far told her how Lilith had gone from that person in the vid to being the monster Shepard had grown to know her as.

In the vid, Lilith’s concerto was interrupted by an incoming call which Andromeda went to answer. Shepard couldn’t see her face, but she noticed how Lilith’s expression changed as she watched Andromeda. She looked confused.

 _“No, no, that is impossible, you’ve made a mistake. No, you’re not listening, it’s impossible! You of all people should know it is!”  
“What’s wrong?” _ Lilith stood up, the camera abandoned on top of the piano, continuing to record her and Andromeda’s shadows moving on the wall. Shepard turned the volume up and, stupidly, leaned closer to the datapad as if it would help her hear better. She realized how idiotic doing so was, but at the same time, it had also been instinctive.

_“It can’t be a boy!”  
“Well, why not? I mean, there’s no telling how exactly the experiments done to me might have affected—”_

_“No, no, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go!”_ Andromeda insisted loudly.   _“There is supposed to be only one!”_ she screamed furiously and stormed out of the room, walking across the frame and disappearing out of the door, Lilith following behind her.

Shepard let the vid play out for a few more minutes, staring at the wall and unable to make out what was being said in the background. She skimmed past the rest of the vid, there was an hour’s worth of material before Lilith reappeared into the frame only to reach toward the camera and shut it down.

There was no more information on the datapad Shepard held and she switched to the third one she’d brought with her. That one had belonged to Andromeda.  
There were fewer video files, apparently, she’d preferred taking pictures and writing her personal logs. It made sense, she’d spent most of her life in a convent, making recordings had probably not been as common there compared to writing things down.

Several of the first entries had been written while she’d still been a member of the order, describing her daily routines and lengthy musings about someone she’d referred to as “Raven” before she’d learned her name.  
Shepard couldn’t help but smile at Andromeda’s obvious infatuation, she was writing about Lilith in a similar way a little girl would write about her crush.

 _What do we have here?_ Shepard mused when she scrolled to the next entry and discovered a piece of poetry titled “She is my sin”.

  _In the meadow of sinful thoughts, every flower’s a perfect one.  
Cinnamon bed for your unashamed appetite. _

_Bless me, undress me. Die for my sins like the One once did.  
Dark, but so lovely. A wild thing never felt sorry for anything. _

_There’s no such priest that can pray me to heaven.  
When done with me, forget if you think I feel ashamed. _

_Body of a virgin, soul to the devil’s kin.  
God, I must confess… I do envy the sinners._

The poem wasn’t explicit, but it might have as well been. Shepard shuddered internally as she worked hard to banish the mental image of her parents in bed. She then continued reading and could tell there were patterns in Andromeda’s writing. There were times when she was almost incoherent, agitated. In her writings, she never explained in detail what had caused it, there were just repeated incidents during which she wrote how things were not going how they were supposed to go.

Shepard assumed she was referring to things going off-script from the prophecy Lilith had mentioned Andromeda had believed in. Why she had stubbornly continued to believe in it was beyond Shepard. She read through the musings of how Andromeda was certain Lilith was the one meant to be the father of the savior and the descriptions of the procedures, ones that Shepard had recently become familiar with herself personally. She finally got to an entry that was dated the same day as the video Shepard had seen a while back, the one in which Andromeda had become agitated.

_Doctor Birkin called and told me that in the most recent scan he’d discovered there is another child. A twin. A male. It’s not possible. It wasn’t visible this entire time, it wasn’t there to begin with. It’s not supposed to be there. It’s not a child. Lilith doesn’t understand, there is only feminine divinity._

“Wait a minute!” Shepard exclaimed out loud, once again having forgotten where she was.  
“Excuse me? Are you okay? I realize this can get uncomfortable, but we’re almost done,” the nurse informed her.

“Oh, no, I was just…” Shepard mumbled awkwardly and gestured toward the datapad.  
“Must be a fascinating story,” the nurse commented with a smile.

“…you can say that again.”

 _I have a twin brother?_ she thought silently. No, she couldn’t have, it made no sense, such a detail would’ve come up at some point. Unless Andromeda had actually done something horrible to the baby boy after giving birth. If she had, that might explain what had broken Lilith and turned her into the bitter, cruel woman Shepard had known her as. Lilith _had_ said Andromeda was crazy, perhaps she hadn’t been exaggerating.

Shepard skimmed through the datapad once more, but there were no further entries or answers in this one. She still had a few back at home, maybe they would provide answers, but frankly… right now, Shepard wasn’t sure if she even wanted to know anymore.

***


	10. Homecoming 2.0

“Oh, God, my eyes!” Shepard whimpered and dropped the datapad.

“What is…?” Samantha frowned and picked it up. “Oh! Well. Look on the bright side, you got to experience this after all. Accidentally witnessing your parents have sex is a huge ‘awkward childhood moment’-milestone,” she laughed and tilted the datapad to the side, squinting a little as she tried to make out more details on the screen.

“Would you put that away!” Shepard scoffed and tried to grab the datapad from Samantha, but she yanked it out of Shepard’s reach.  
“We’ve done that… though, not at that speed!” Samantha commented on whatever it was that she was seeing. “Oh, this was on fast-forward,” she then chuckled.

“Sam!” Shepard exclaimed, getting genuinely upset.  
“I’m joking!” Samantha scoffed. “I’m just trying to save your mental health by scrolling through this datapad to see if there’s anything on here that is _not_ a sex vid or a nude photo.”

“This is hopeless, there’s nothing useful in these, most of them are from before I was born,” Shepard grumbled gesturing toward the datapads and turned to lie on her stomach on the couch, grumpily mushing her face against the cushioned arm rest. Whiskey jumped onto the couch and walked over Shepard until he was standing on her upper back. He reached to snuffle the side of her face and the back of her neck and once he’d determined she was okay, Whiskey settled to lay down on the spot between Shepard’s shoulder blades.

“Well, I found something interesting,” Samantha mumbled and presented the datapad to Shepard.  
“Augh, Sam! I don’t want to see that!” she scoffed and shoved at Samantha’s hand when she realized she was looking at a candid shot of Andromeda sitting topless on the edge of her bed.

“No, no, look at the background!” Samantha insisted and pointed at the image of Andromeda’s back in the mirror behind her.  
“What is that?” Shepard frowned and took the datapad into her hands, magnifying the image as much as she could.

“It doesn’t look like a tattoo to me,” Samantha mused, and Shepard agreed. After staring at the image for a while, Shepard realized the thick white scars covering the majority of Andromeda’s back formed a crude but distinct pattern: wings.  
“The edges aren’t clean enough for that to be the work of a professional artist,” Samantha said, and Shepard nodded a little.

“Yeah, this doesn’t look like plain old body modification. I think… she may have done this to herself,” she mumbled. “I don’t really want to see more,” she then said and put the datapad away.  
“Well… there is another way we could do this,” Samantha said and moved to stand by the couch, reaching to sink her fingers into Shepard’s hair and gently scratched her scalp with raking her fingernails lightly over it.

“Hypnosis to dig up lost memories?” Shepard asked and raised her head, reaching to hook a finger through the belt loop in Samantha’s jeans and pulled her closer until she was sitting on the arm rest.  
“I was thinking about something more reliable,” Samantha chuckled quietly as Shepard moved to rest her head in Samantha’s lap. “How about taking Javik to the house? He could do his touchy-feely-reading objects and people-thing.”

“Sam, that is brilliant!” Shepard gasped.  
“I know.”

“But… I gotta say, even if Javik does agree, I’m not sure how him narrating my childhood would sound like,” Shepard smirked a little and Samantha smirked back.  
“I know, which is why he would share this information with his bond mate who then would share it with you,” she said.

“Oh. I see.”  
“Yeah,” Samantha nodded. She didn’t relish the idea of Shepard melding with Liara, but she knew this was important to Shepard and doing it like that was really the best way to find reliable answers rather than keep making guesses based on incomplete data.

“Well, let’s not get carried away, Javik and Liara might not want to do it.”  
“Javik might not, Liara would and she’ll talk him into it,” Samantha predicted, and Shepard laughed a little. It sounded about right.

* * *

The house was still sealed off as a crime scene, but Shepard invoked Spectre authority and entered with Liara and Javik. No doubt the local law enforcement was interested in whatever details Lilith may have had stashed away in the house regarding her business dealings and once they’d seen the perfect opportunity to investigate after being given full access, they weren’t about to just give it up. While a handful of the officers had worked for Lilith, the majority of them were still good cops, looking to either make arrests or find a way in to the inner circle to bring down the entire operation.

Shepard wished them good luck but wasn’t interested in that, she was here for something else.

“It is strange,” Liara said.  
“What is?” Shepard asked, turning to look at her.

“Being here in person. I’ve seen memories of this place, but…” Liara cut herself off when they entered the kitchen. The cleanup crew hadn’t been in there yet.

“Goddess…” she exclaimed quietly. Contrary to what was still a popular sight in vids (despite being completely false), there was no chalk outline where the body had been, but the floorboards were stained with blood, a pool of it shaped in a semi-circle around where Lilith’s head had been. The ceiling was splattered with blood, bone fragments and brain matter, the color having gone from red to brown when the blood had oxidized after drying. The room had a slight stench of blood but more than that it smelled of stale old beer, the floor sticky with it. It had seeped into the wood after Lilith had squeezed the bottle so hard it had broken in her hand.

“Yeah,” Shepard muttered. She’d seen worse. She knew Liara had seen worse. But this was different because this was personal.

Shepard opened the door leading to the backyard and stepped outside. The lawn had been well-kept, slightly overgrown and dry now that no one had been there to take care of it. The inflatable swimming pool, the toys and bikes that Shepard had seen here the last time she’d visited were gone. She doubted the cops had taken them. But then, who had and why?

“Huh,” Shepard scoffed quietly when the cherry tree by the tall wooden fence bordering the backyard caught her eye. It wasn’t in blossom this time of the year but there was something on its bark she felt warranted more attention. She walked over, Javik and Liara following behind her, Javik having been surprisingly quiet the entire time they’d been here. Shepard couldn’t say if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

“A cherry tree is considered a symbol of rebirth and awakening, the blossoms are said to bring good fortune,” Liara said, and Shepard knew she was resorting to babbling a little because she was nervous. She’d gotten better about it over the years, but she still had her moments of weakness. Granted, her explanation offered an insight Shepard wouldn’t have considered otherwise. Then again, it could’ve been a coincidence… but at times, Shepard found it difficult to believe in coincidences.

“She is here,” Javik finally spoke and pressed his hand against the tree, running it over the symbol carved onto the bark.  
“I never knew,” Shepard mumbled as she stared at the deep lines cut into the tree. It was the same pattern forming the shape of wings she’d seen on Andromeda’s back.

Shepard lowered herself to sit on the ground and wrapped her arms around her knees.

“Can I have a moment, please?” she requested.  
“Of course, commander,” Javik said and Shepard had to chuckle a little at him still calling her that.

“What am I going to find here?” Shepard asked from the wings on the bark once she’d been left alone. “Why am I even here, why did I even start this damn crusade? Why couldn’t I just leave well enough alone?”

She couldn’t think of an answer and the tree wasn’t going to provide any either. At this point, Shepard felt she was continuing on this path out of sheer stubbornness rather than curiosity or genuine desire to know where she’d come from. She’d already come this far, why not go all the way?

***


	11. The dark passion play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka the flashback-chapter.

* * *

_“Mother is the name of God on the lips and hearts of little children.”_  
_-The Crow_

* * *

 

_Andromeda and Lilith, illustration commissioned from[devilsarm](http://devilsarm.tumblr.com/)_

* * *

 

“You shouldn’t have brought her here.”  
“Sister Claire, please. What was I supposed to do, leave her to die?”

“You should have called for help and minded your own business.”

Lilith grunted when firm hands applied pressure onto the wound in her abdomen, the older nun’s arms covered with smudges of Lilith’s dark red blood. She whimpered and jerked on the bed when the nun formed a small claw with three of her fingers and forced the digits into the wound, feeling around for the projectile that had pierced the skin and gotten embedded into the tissue of Lilith’s abdomen.

“Keep calm, God never gives you more than you can bear,” the younger nun said, her hand resting over Lilith’s forehead.

“Then… She has severely… overestimated me,” Lilith said, her words stammered and interrupted by grunts of pain and shallow sharp breaths. She yelled in pain when sister Claire abruptly pulled out from the wound, dragging the bullet out as well with her fingertips.

“I don’t see any excessive bleeding,” she mumbled after a quick visual examination of the wound and slathered a generous amount of medi-gel over it.

* * *

Recovering from a gunshot wound to the gut wasn’t as quick and painless as it looked in the movies. Especially not when you were stuck recovering in a place where authenticity was appreciated to the point of the healers rather using things like root vegetables and herbs to aid the recovery than modern medicines. The medi-gel was reserved for severe emergencies only, and since the most urgent danger had passed, Lilith had been cut off from it. She was rather surprised by this; considering how eager everyone except sister Andromeda seemed to be to get rid of Lilith, she’d assumed they would’ve happily made an exception to speed up her recovery.

She’d been here for over a month and the only form of entertainment were books, and even those were the religious kind and therefore didn’t exactly cater to her desires despite the stories being mostly unfamiliar to her. She’d been raised Catholic but the only Catholic tradition her family had practiced had been the Catholic church’s penchant for covering up cases of child abuse. Lilith felt her mother should’ve gotten an award for her outstanding ability to just look away when her husband would sneak into her daughter’s bedroom several times a week. Granted, her mother had been severely impaired by her depression and alcoholism, she hadn’t been in a position to notice much anything happening around her, odds were she hadn’t even realized it was happening.

 _I wonder if she’s still alive_ , Lilith mused. She had left her alive, safe and sound, in one piece. Same couldn’t be said of her father.

Lilith sighed. She hated having too much time to think. She was bored and even she was beginning to feel like she’d worn out her welcome, she knew she should’ve left already, she would’ve been capable of recovering elsewhere until she was good as new, but… the truth was she didn’t want to leave Andromeda. She’d grown very fond of her in the past few weeks and she dare say the feeling was mutual.

She doubted Andromeda would ever admit as much if she even was aware of the attraction. Lilith had to consider she might not be. There was a certain innocence about her, not the childlike naivety about how the world worked, no; she knew how perfectly horrible and terrifying the world was. Her innocence was… personal. She didn’t seem to have any self-awareness regarding the way she acted around Lilith. Or if she did, she certainly hid it flawlessly.

Whenever she’d changed the bandages covering the wound on Lilith’s abdomen, she’d cast curious looks that had gone on longer than necessary, her gaze stalling over the naked skin and the subtle contours of Lilith’s abdomen (what little muscle definition was still visible after such a long time without any exercise). Lingering intimate touches on various parts of Lilith’s body, mostly just a hand over her forearm or her knee; touches she’d interpreted as Andromeda’s curiosity and inability to determine what was causing her need to feel Lilith’s skin under her hand, prompting her to continue doing it almost as if her hands had suddenly developed a will of their own.

“Sit with me,” Lilith requested, reaching to gently grip Andromeda’s forearm to stop her before she had a chance to step out of the room. “Just for a while. Keep me company. Please, don’t leave me alone with my thoughts,” she added when she saw that Andromeda would’ve wanted to tell her she shouldn’t.

“All right,” Andromeda agreed quietly and smiled.

They sat together on the bed and talked for so long that sister Andromeda’s absence was noticed. When sister Claire burst into the room without knocking, sister Andromeda stood up, startled like a child who’d gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Lilith didn’t, she was shameless enough to not feel guilty over a conversation even if it was happening after hours.

“It is late, you shouldn’t be here,” sister Claire said, her words directed to Andromeda, who began to apologize and explained she’d lost track of time.

“Isn’t it about time you went home?” sister Claire then asked from Lilith, her tone of voice making it more of an order than a question or a friendly suggestion. A part of Lilith wanted to argue over it, but she knew better than to try, she had no authority here.

Besides, sister Claire wasn’t wrong; it _was_ about time she went home, and she was kind of looking forward to it. If for nothing else, then for the pleasure of seeing the looks on the faces of those who were certain she’d been killed… and especially those who were responsible for ordering the hit. She would surprise the shit out of them… with a blow torch. Or a hammer. She hadn’t decided on all the details yet, pulling teeth out with a pair of pliers was really the only thing she already knew she would do. It was the least she could do to return the favor to those who were responsible.

“I will be gone by this time tomorrow, I swear,” Lilith promised the nun.  
“Good,” sister Claire nodded, stepped aside from the door and gestured outside, urging Andromeda to hurry up and go to her room. She did as she was told, sister Claire following behind her and closing the door, leaving Lilith alone.

It was well past midnight and Lilith was still lying awake when the door was opened gingerly. Lilith sat up, half expecting it to be sister Claire coming in to personally kick her out right now rather than wait until tomorrow, but it was Andromeda, dressed in a nightgown, looking back over her shoulder to make sure she hadn’t been seen before closing the door softly to make as little noise as possible.

“Take me with you,” she said and went to sit next to Lilith. “I don’t feel like I belong here anymore, I feel like I belong with you.”

Lilith couldn’t think of anything to say, she was still taking in the sight she was facing. She hadn’t known nuns wore nightgowns but that was something Lilith was willing to chalk up to her own ignorance because now that she thought about it she had to admit she’d always assumed they only had that one outfit, the habit…. which she now realized was such a ridiculous thought. She also had never even considered that Andromeda might be blonde; the hair color had never been exactly common, but even less nowadays. Lilith couldn’t recall ever having seen a natural blonde before.

“I… wait… what? Are you sure?”  
“I have this… craving that I don’t fully understand, and I can’t… I just know that it has to do with you and I feel that I should be with you.”

“You should be with me for some unexplained reason or you _want_ to be with me?” Lilith questioned. It didn’t sound like it, but there was a big difference.  
“Both,” Andromeda replied.

“Well, I have some idea of what your craving might be about,” Lilith grinned a little and Andromeda genuinely didn’t seem to understand the implication. Lilith had to chuckle a little at that, Andromeda being so oblivious to the facts was adorable.

Lilith put her arm around Andromeda’s midsection and scooted closer, leaned in and tilted her head to the side, making her intentions as clear as she could without outright proclaiming what she was about to do. The kiss was tentative, light, soft, somewhat clumsy. It occurred to Lilith that this was probably Andromeda’s first kiss, at least as an adult. The thought of being Andromeda’s first made Lilith feel exquisitely decadent.

“All right…” she mumbled into the kiss, breaking it slowly. “All right, I’ll take you with me.”

* * *

Andromeda was still asleep, her back toward Lilith who lay on her side, leaning her head into the cup of her palm as she stared at Andromeda’s back. The fresh cuts were an irritated shade of red over her shoulder blades; the shape of wings formed over decades of self-mutilation, the scars thick where Andromeda had repeatedly cut over the already healed tissue. She kept saying it was how she purified herself. Of what, Lilith didn’t know and probably wouldn’t have understood either even if Andromeda had tried explaining it. Lilith was no stranger to intentionally damaging her body, but she preferred the old-fashioned method of drinking and smoking; the mere thought of cutting herself like Andromeda repeatedly cut herself made Lilith shudder internally with revolt.

She leaned toward Andromeda and nuzzled the side of her neck, waking her slowly with light kisses. Andromeda moaned quietly and reached behind her, sinking her hand into Lilith’s hair and straightening her back to press into her tighter.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Lilith whispered into Andromeda’s ear before trailing the tip of her tongue over the edge of it, her hand slowly sliding higher up along Andromeda’s abdomen, pausing to gently cup her breast.  
“And?” Andromeda asked, her voice just a breathy whisper.  
“And I want to have a baby with you.”

Andromeda turned to face Lilith and gave her a brilliant smile. Lilith didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone look as happy as Andromeda did in that moment.

“So, you believe me?” she inquired, and Lilith made an awkward sound. As always, moments of genuine happiness were exquisite but so very fleeting.  
“You know I don’t believe in… much anything.”

“Then it’s not sincere,” Andromeda mumbled, her smile disappearing as her mouth turned into a tight line.  
“No, you see, it’s exactly that and for exactly because I don’t believe,” Lilith said, and Andromeda frowned.

“Explain.”  
“Well… isn’t the important thing that I want to have a child with you? What does it matter if I believe or not?”

“It does matter.”  
“Why?”

“Because…” Andromeda trailed off, realizing she could not think of a reason.  
“For as long as I’m not being coerced or manipulated into it, for as long as I’m not doing it just because it’s what I know you would want me to… what difference does it make? None. The fact remains that regardless of faith or the lack of it… I want us to have a baby,” Lilith reasoned.

“…well, that actually makes sense,” Andromeda agreed after thinking about it for a moment.  
“Told you it would,” Lilith smiled.  
“All right. Let’s have a baby.”

* * *

Lilith laughed at the orange tabby chasing the red dot, the cat scampering after the unattainable goal of capturing it, his head dipping to poke his nose against his paw to try and determine what the hell was happening, the red dot somehow having slipped from underneath his paw to now sit on top of it, confusing him for he could see it but not feel it.

“Would you stop bullying that thing?” the man (who for some reason was known as Ugly-Chris despite not being exactly ugly) asked impatiently.  
“I’m not bullying it, I’m playing with it,” Lilith scoffed, turned the laser pointer off and tucked it into her pocket. “The cat comes with the deal.”

“Fine, whatever, let’s just get down to business,” Ugly-Chris sighed.

“Ten kilos for a million and a half, it’s bargain for you, it’s some grade-A shit and well worth over two million. And you take the cat, the missus is… prejudiced against cats it turns out... You in or out?” Lilith stated her terms and Ugly-Chris laughed softly.

“Grade-A, huh?”  
“Obviously. I’m retiring but I’ve still got a reputation to keep.”

“Never would’ve thought I’d get a chance to buy your business,” he said.  
“Yeah, well, things change. I got my babies to think about nowadays,” Lilith said and extended her hand. He gripped it and they shook on it.

“We can make the exchange tomorrow if you’ve got the goods at hand.”  
“That’s fine,” Lilith said, and Ugly-Chris prepared to leave after brokering the deal. Lilith cleared her throat loudly and Ugly-Chris sighed. He turned back, leaned down to scoop the cat up into his arms and left.

* * *

For a while, Lilith had held hope that it was just postpartum depression and that Andromeda would snap out of it, but the more time passed, the more obvious it became that it wasn’t about that. She had no trouble having the energy to look after Maxima, she worshipped the girl. It was only when it came to dealing with Cain that she plain refused to participate.

It was ridiculous and exhausting on so many levels. They’d gone from being lovers and happily anticipating parenthood to being essentially single-parents who shared a house, Lilith having taken sole custody of Cain since Andromeda had declared he was evil and she would refuse to ensure his well-being. Lilith couldn’t understand how she could say that let alone genuinely mean it, Cain was just a little boy.

Lilith didn’t believe in devils and gods, she didn’t believe people were born good or bad; they were born a blank slate and how they lived their lives determined how they would be remembered, accident of birth, nothing set and written in stone. Andromeda’s views were the opposite which had made living with her the past four years quite hellish.

 _And still, I just love her and keep hoping it’ll get better. I guess even I’m not immune to blindly believing in something endlessly self-destructive,_ Lilith sighed internally as she ran her fingers through Cain’s black hair. He’d fallen asleep in the middle of watching a vid, his head resting in Lilith’s lap, his thumb in his mouth. Lilith smiled at the sight of him. There couldn’t be an ounce of evil in him.

“You should put him down,” Andromeda commented from behind Lilith and she knew Andromeda wasn’t talking about lowering the child onto the couch. Lilith turned to look at her over her shoulder.  
“How the hell can you say something like that?” she scowled.

“Because I know what will happen if you don’t.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! You don’t know _anything_! You just walk around talking to the voice in your head and stupidly believe God talks to you. Well, here’s a fucking newsflash, Andi, God doesn’t talk to anyone!” Lilith hissed. Andromeda took a few steps closer until she stood behind Lilith and placed her hands over Lilith’s shoulders.

She surprised her by beginning to gently knead the tense muscles and Lilith exhaled deeply, relaxing into the touch. Andromeda leaned down, nuzzled the side of Lilith’s neck and sunk her hand into the hair on the back of Lilith’s head, squeezing it into a fist, gently tugging on the hair.

“I love you,” she whispered, and Lilith exhaled deeply, the sweet ache of her heart swelling at the words filling her chest. She’d missed hearing that, she’d missed feeling loved.

“I love you too and I’m so tired of fighting with you. We have different world views, but we already knew that going in. And despite that, we managed to get everything we ever wanted, why can’t we just be happy?” she asked, her voice thick with sadness, tears of frustration and anguish stinging in her eyes.

“I told you; don't let the demons take you, and you didn't listen, but I forgive you,” Andromeda said. Before Lilith had a chance to question her meaning, she felt Andromeda’s fist tighten in her hair and yank her head back, followed by a loud crack and a feeling of painful pressure in her forehead and then… everything went dark.

* * *

When Lilith came to, her face felt sticky. She lay on the floor, face down, her cheek stuck to the bare wood because of the blood that had pooled underneath her head and dried. She got up shakily and sucked in shuddering breaths as she stumbled into the bathroom to rinse her face. She let out a quiet gasp when she saw her reflection in the mirror; a small knife was stuck in her forehead, sunken handle-deep into her head.

Her first instinct was to pull it out even though she knew doing so would risk causing more damage, but she wasn’t worried about that, her thought processes overshadowed by concern for her children and fury toward Andromeda. She gripped the handle and yanked hard.

She yelled as a web of painful lightning bolts ripped through her head and spread into her entire body, causing her to collapse onto the floor where she lay until the shockwaves of pain dissipated. Breathing heavily, she slowly stood up and exited the room. She needed to find her children.

She searched the house, but it was empty. As she passed a window upstairs, she glanced outside and saw Andromeda sitting on a garden swing, the stormy wind tugging at her bright blonde hair as she cradled a bundle in her arms, swaying back and forth slowly. Lilith stumbled down the stairs and went outside.

Maxima was crying, loud and terrified wails only those in severe distress and anguish could make. Lilith racked the slide of her handgun as she marched across the backyard, the sounds of her movement drowned by the child’s crying and the storm. She pressed the muzzle against the back of Andromeda’s head and pulled the trigger without hesitation or remorse. Maxima screamed, her voice soon accompanied by Lilith’s as she discovered her son on the ground, wrapped in a blanket, his head lolling limply to the side in an unnatural angle.

* * *

Maxima held an arm over her abdomen and limped into the living room. She was certain she had a fractured rib or two in addition to the bruised shin and ego. She really didn’t want to tell Lilith about what had happened, but she knew Lilith would be even more upset when she would eventually find out about this and then realize Maxima had tried keeping it a secret.

Lilith took one look at Maxima and reached her hand out, firmly grabbing her by the hair and pulled on her.

“Come here. Come on!” she ordered, and Maxima stumbled forward and onto her knees as Lilith pressed her down until she was on the floor. She pushed Maxima’s head lower until it was resting against Lilith’s thigh.  
“What happened?” Lilith asked, her hand still balled into a tight fist, gripping Maxima’s hair while the other stroked her head, but it wasn’t a gentle stroke, it was almost violent, disguised in a loving motherly gesture.

“One of Ugly-Chris’s guys happened. He said to tell you that Chris thinks you’re not fit to be in charge because you’re sandblasted all the time. He also said that your cat died,” Maxima relayed the message reluctantly. She knew Lilith would happily shoot the messenger.

“Well. That’s unfortunate,” Lilith said. Maxima swallowed hard. She’d learned long ago that moments like this were nothing more than calm before the storm. Mere seconds later, Lilith stood up and dragged Maxima up with her.  
“Show me where,” she demanded, unnecessarily pulling on the girl; she would’ve followed voluntarily.

They got into the car and after a few moments of driving around the streets, Maxima pointed out the young man who had beaten her up earlier today. He was visibly startled when he saw Lilith and turned to run, but she stopped him in a biotic force field she was able to conjure up thanks to the excessive amounts of red sand she’d consumed over the years and just briefly before arriving to the scene. Her biotics weren’t very strong, she’d never trained them, merely played around with them for her own amusement, but they were strong enough to stop the man in his tracks for the few seconds it took for Lilith to get to him.

She extended her leg behind his and pushed him, tripping him. When he fell onto his back on the ground, she stepped onto his throat.

“Tell your boss that this means war, nobody messes with my girl! And if I ever catch you selling on my corner again, I will tie you to a tree and lead a trail of ants into every orifice of your pathetic body! Do you understand?” Lilith asked, and he nodded frantically, gasping for air and clawing at her boot. Lilith moved her foot, reached down and grabbed his throat with her hand instead, dragging him to his feet. He coughed, his tongue sticking out from his mouth as he desperately tried to breathe.

“Good, now get the hell out of here before I kill you with my bare hands,” Lilith said, let him go and kicked him on the ass, hard. He stumbled, fell face first to the ground and scampered back up, dashing away from her as fast as he could.

Lilith then turned her attention to Maxima and slapped her hard across the face.

“Stand up for yourself, for fuck’s sake! You let a scrawny little shit like that beat you? What’s the matter with you!” she scolded.

“I’m sorry, he jumped me!” Maxima cried and pressed her face against Lilith’s abdomen, her arms wrapping around Lilith’s waist as she hugged her tightly, stupidly expecting to be hugged back, but Lilith never did. Never had before either, why would today be an exception? Maxima didn’t know, and she didn’t understand why she kept trying but at this point she no longer knew how not to try.

“If he jumped you that just means you weren’t paying attention!” Lilith scoffed and pried Maxima off of herself, turning to head back into the car.  
“I’m sorry,” Maxima sniffled.

When they got home, Lilith ordered Maxima to come with her and the girl followed her back into the living room. Lilith took a seat in her chair and began to arrange the red sand on the table.

“Tell me where it hurts,” Lilith said, and Maxima tugged on her shirt, presenting the bruises on her torso before pulling up the leg of her pants and showing the one on her shin.

“Here.”  
“But, I don’t…”

“Don’t bother, you’re almost thirteen, I know you’ve done this before, only now you’re doing it with permission. It’ll make you feel better,” Lilith said and reached her hand out, her little finger extended, a small pile of red sand resting in the curve of the fingernail she’d let grow long just for this purpose.

“Thank you,” Maxima said, leaned over and pressed one of her nostrils shut before placing the other at the tip of Lilith’s finger and inhaling deeply. How was a girl supposed to decline an offer like that from the woman who was her entire world?

* * *

Maxima shoved some of her belongings into a bag furiously, sniffling as she did, the bitter and angry tears stinging in her eyes and running down her face. What Lilith had just told her had been the last straw.

 _If you hate me so much, why do you even let me stay here?_ Maxima had demanded to know after once again being made clear her existence didn’t matter to the one person who had stolen the title of Mother and decided to wear it despite obviously lacking the qualities of one.

 _I don’t hate you, Maxima. I just don’t love you,_ Lilith had responded bluntly and just walked away, not realizing or simply not caring about the fact that she’d just shattered Maxima’s entire world.

The years of abuse had been difficult but not completely worthless, that was what Maxima had always told herself. She’d stupidly believed in some kind of redemption, that if she was good enough Lilith would tell her she loved her and was proud of her. She still didn’t know why she’d always longed for it but what Lilith told her tonight changed everything.

It took away the chance of redemption, confirmed there was no hope. In a way it was a relief, it meant Maxima had never had a chance in the first place, it meant her efforts had been in vain, but that ultimately, there’d never been anything she could’ve done; there’d never been any love to be gained.

So, she ran. She ran until she couldn’t anymore. She did everything she could to get as far away as possible, and once she was there, she found herself looking over her shoulder, wondering if someone was coming after and at the same time hoping someone would come to save her from feeling homesick and missing Mother.

***


	12. Chimera

_“Don’t you wanna know where you were those years when you were dead? I’ll give you a hint, babygirl. Where do you think someone, who slaughters people for a living goes after she’s dead?” Lilith pretended to think hard on it, the handgun casually twirling around her index finger that was through the trigger guard. She leaned back against the piano and crossed her legs at the ankles. A younger version of her sat in front of the keys, playing a desolate tune, seemingly unaware of anyone or anything around her._

_“Tsk, your mother would know, she was always so much better at this stuff,” Lilith said, shaking her head ruefully. The moment she mentioned her, Andromeda appeared in the room, the younger, pregnant version of her sitting by the younger Lilith’s side, leaning their sides together, resting her head on her shoulder. They looked happy but at the same time there was something… off about them, about the entire room, about the energy in there. It was cold and tense._

_“You killed her!” Shepard yelled._

_“Hey, now, that’s some misplaced anger right there; don’t be mad at me, I’m the one who is trying to help you find the truth because the sooner you understand and accept the truth, the better off you will be.”_

_“I hate you.”_

_“Of course you do because I was honest with you about how I never loved you. Mostly that was because you reminded me of her. Ironically, that was also the only reason I didn’t just get rid of you,” Lilith said and glared to the side at the fifth woman in the room, the older version of Andromeda, who she’d been just moments prior to her death._

_“It wasn’t your fault, Maxima,” Andromeda said, and Shepard felt the scene shifting, found herself wrapped in a blanket, in the safety of her mother’s lap and the comforting warmth radiating from her._

_“Don’t let the demons take you,” Andromeda said, and Shepard tucked her head underneath her mother’s chin, wrapping her arms around her, feeling the raised scar tissue on her back, the wings she’d cut and carved into her own flesh over the years. The next thing Shepard knew, a pair of hands grabbed her shoulders violently and yanked her from her mother’s arms and in that instant, Andromeda was gone._

_“There’s only one outcome no matter how you want to play this!” Lilith yelled as she threw Shepard to the ground and stepped on her throat. The storm clouds gathered above her, the sky turning from calm deep blue to a shade of black and purple, the shade reminding Shepard of a fresh bruise._

_“I am the darkness you carry, the permanent stain on your soul, babygirl.”  
_ Don’t let the demons take you.

_“All those demons inside you just waiting to get out!” Lilith taunted, shifting more of her weight onto the foot that was firmly pressing against Shepard’s throat.  
_ Don’t let the demons take you.

_“You will lose your struggle with the darkness and when you do, everyone will see you for who you really are...”  
_ Don’t let the demons take you.

_“…because all you have to do is make one mistake and you go from being their hero and their savior… to being nothing but a monster.”_

* * *

Shepard jerked awake, inhaling deeply, frantically gasping for air as if she’d forgotten to breathe in her sleep. At least she hadn’t been yelling in her sleep this time, she deduced when she saw Samantha and the dogs in the room were all sound asleep, aside from Krauser who raised his head and turned to look at Shepard. She peeled the blanket from around herself and sat up, the sheet sticky with sweat and clinging to the skin of her back.

“It’s okay, boy, go back to sleep,” Shepard whispered to the dog and patted his head she walked past him and exited the room. Instead continuing his sleep, the dog followed her and sat down next to her when she entered the bathroom and paused to stand in front of the mirror. Shepard smiled a little at the dog’s loyalty; it seemed that in some way he knew his human wasn’t okay and that he was trying to figure out a way to comfort her.

Shepard tucked her hair behind her ears and turned the faucet on, gathered a generous amount of water into the cup of her palms and leaned over the sink, splashing the water over her face repeatedly. Finally, she shut the water off and sighed deeply, drops running down her chin and neck, sliding over her chest before soaking into the black fabric of her tank top.

“What am I?” she mumbled, staring at her reflection. The scars splitting her face were glowing bright red, the same shade having taken over her eyes that were supposed to be blue but rarely appeared as such nowadays.

Krauser shifted his weight a little as he stared up at her. Shepard scratched behind his ear absent-mindedly.

“I guess it doesn’t matter, I somehow always end up being the one in charge or to blame. When I died and came back, it was as if… everyone was blaming me for dying. When I came back, people never wasted a second before telling me how much my death fucked everything up. Like I’d had a fucking choice in the matter!” Shepard scoffed bitterly and sat down on the floor, leaning her back against the cabinet under the sink. Krauser settled to lay down, his attention still on Shepard.

“I died twice for these selfish shits and what do I get?” she muttered angrily.

What _had_ she gotten? Questionable fame which had made all kinds of weirdos crawl out of the woodwork and into her inbox or to stalk her in public places. Religious nuts who were quick to deem her the reincarnation of Christ (that having been the story of her life for a lot longer than she’d even realized) and their opposers bitching and moaning how a woman couldn’t be a savior, both sides constantly harassing Shepard for her input on the matter; a matter she had never wanted any part in, but as usual, the universe didn’t bother stopping to ask for her opinion before throwing her to the wolves.

Shepard bent her legs and wrapped her arms around them, resting her head against her knees. Days like these she wondered how different her life would’ve been if a few little details would’ve been slightly different in her earlier life. The bitter truth she’d learned recently was that her childhood could’ve been better, and she found herself mourning the lost chance at happiness.

Since Shepard was the only known living relative of Lilith’s, all the paperwork regarding her death, including the autopsy report, had been forwarded to Shepard. She’d asked Doctor Chakwas to translate it from medical mumbo-jumbo to layman and the unpleasant truth certainly explained a few things, like the difference in Lilith’s personality in the vids versus her personality when Shepard had known her.

When Andromeda had stabbed Lilith in the head that night, she’d injured Lilith’s frontal lobe. That had left her with impaired impulse control, had rendered her aggressive, volatile, emotionally stunted and prone to depression which when coupled with her substance abuse had made her susceptible to violent outbursts. That was the only version of her Shepard had really known. It hurt to realize Lilith would’ve been a caring parent if it weren’t for that injury; it hurt to realize how close Shepard had been to having if not normal then at least a decent childhood.

The only missing piece of the story was her twin-brother. There were no records of him anywhere, but evidently, he had existed, Javik had felt it when he’d been at the house. But even he hadn’t been able to tell for sure what had happened to the boy; the emotions imprinted to the house and to the scene had gotten mottled with so much suffering from Lilith and Shepard it was difficult to tell some things apart. What Shepard couldn’t understand was why had his birth been kept a secret.

Doctor Chakwas had explained that Lilith had been a chimera, parts of her remnants of a twin-brother who’d been absorbed while still developing in the womb, leaving Lilith with two sets of cells: her own and those of her brother, meaning that Lilith had been Shepard’s father while her brother -what was left of him in Lilith’s cells- had technically been Cain’s father. Why Doctor Birkin and his team at Neo-Umbrella had never made any notes regarding this was something Shepard had not found out.

Maybe they’d tried keeping it a secret because they’d been sloppy and hadn’t noticed Lilith’s condition before it was too late, and such a screw up was surely enough to have their funding cut off. Maybe they had known and had been told not to work with a chimera but had done it anyway and buried the results. Shepard didn’t think she’d ever find out what the truth was. It didn’t matter, it didn’t change anything, but it explained something. It explained how she could have a brother despite the science saying that it was impossible to conceive a male child using female sperm.

_“As for Andromeda, well, matters of mental health aren’t my area of expertise, but it sounds to me like she suffered from schizophrenia. Considering her upbringing, it is rather easy to see why it might have been overlooked, her delusions encouraged even by her fanatic family. They undoubtedly believed as Andromeda did that God was speaking to her,”_ Doctor Chakwas had said, and Shepard was inclined to agree. All that did to Shepard was add yet more darkness and insanity to what she assumed was already brewing within her, inherited silent and invisible internal assassins.

“What am I?” Shepard muttered and buried her face in her hands. “I gotta figure this out,” she mumbled. Krauser let out a quiet mewl and Shepard turned to look at him. She could’ve sworn the dog was trying to tell her to quit figuring it out and start doing something.

* * *

 

In all honesty, as much as Samantha hated admitting it, she’d expected something like this to happen, she’d known it wouldn’t be over as simply as she’d hoped. On one hand, she couldn’t blame Shepard and she wasn’t unsympathetic, she understood that this all was important. But at the same time, she couldn’t help but start to feel somewhat betrayed and bitter… as well as angry at herself for having pushed Shepard into this. In her defense, she hadn’t realized how bad it would get.

Since visiting the house, Shepard had been taking fifteen hour “naps” and had gotten out of bed mostly only because she’d needed to use the bathroom or after she’d gotten woken up by nightmares. She’d essentially shut Samantha out, she was stuck in a slump she kept deepening herself, every passing day making it harder for Samantha to reach her.

Samantha went to the bed and settled to lie on her side, sliding closer to Shepard and tucked her hair aside, exposing the back of her neck before wrapping her arm around Shepard. She then nuzzled the back of Shepard’s neck and pressed herself tightly against Shepard’s back.

“I need you to recover, because I can’t make it on my own,” she mumbled against Shepard’s skin.

The doorbell rang, and Samantha sighed a little as she up and went to the foyer before the dogs’ barking would wake Shepard.

“Sammy!” Janae yelled happily and threw her arms around Samantha’s waist, hugging her tightly.  
“Hey, sweetie,” Samantha chuckled and hugged her back.

“Where’s Max?”  
“Ah, well, you know what, sweetie?” Samantha began somewhat awkwardly and knelt down. “Max is feeling a bit ill, she’s still asleep, so how about we let her sleep and let’s just you and I do something fun while we wait for her to wake up, okay?” she smiled.

“Okay,” Janae agreed and turned her attention to the dogs then, soon ending up in a tug of war with Whiskey who playfully growled as he and Janae tugged back and forth on a piece of rope.

“Am I a horrible person for thinking that Shepard is being a selfish brat right now?” Samantha asked from Liara after inviting her in and offering to brew some tea.  
“Shepard’s recently had to come to terms with some very traumatic things, it is understandable that she would need time to process it all,” Liara said.

“So yes, I am a horrible person.”  
“I didn’t say that, I understand why you’d be feeling frustrated and impatient. A lot has happened in a short time, but nothing’s really moved forward.”

“The recent events seem to have triggered a domino-effect, only it’s going in the wrong direction,” Samantha muttered and poured the tea into mugs, pausing to ask if Liara wanted sugar or milk in hers. She declined the offer and Samantha handed her the mug, taking a seat at the table.

“Yes, and unfortunately, the result is as hideous as it is clarifying. Shepard has never been exactly forthcoming about what goes on inside her, I imagine whatever it is, it must be far worse than what we’re witnessing.”

“You’re right, I know you are, but… this life was something that we were supposed to be building together and I waited for her to commit to it and now when I thought she finally had, this happens. I know I’m being inconsiderate even thinking like this, but the truth is… I’m tired of all these problems!” Samantha sighed in exasperation.

“I understand why you feel that way but unfortunately, I don’t think there is anything you can do to speed up the process,” Liara said, offering a rueful smile. Samantha had to agree. She didn’t like it, but she knew Liara was right.

Samantha found herself wondering if this was worth it anymore and the thought even occurring to her was an unpleasant realization. What was even more unpleasant was having to come to terms with the fact that maybe this relationship was no longer healthy for her.

***


	13. The beauty of the beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics for Lilith's song are from Sunny Sweeney's "Better bad idea".

“Shepard, there are no deadlines here. This is about your recovery, and I need you to acknowledge that there is a lot of things to work through, starting from the traumas maternal deprivation and abuse in your childhood caused, and through to all the trauma you’ve endured during your career in the Alliance. I need you to be patient with yourself. Besides, contrary to what you seem to think, you have not stopped progressing,” doctor Kennedy assured after she’d let him know how frustrated she was over how slow this all was happening. Shepard exhaled deeply and ran a hand over her face, she felt like she was wasting time. Lately it seemed that was the only thing she’d been good for.

“I had a nightmare the other night. I mean, flashbacks, nightmares, I’ve always had those, it’s nothing new, but they’ve been… different recently,” she then said.  
“Different how?”

“They leave me feeling kind of jumpy and weird for the entire day after.”  
“Want to tell me about the dreams?” doctor Kennedy asked, prepared to make notes.

“I dug up my own grave. The corpse was decomposed beyond recognition, but I knew it was me,” Shepard began, closing her eyes to recall the details. She could see her implants shining in the remains of rotten maggoty flesh. What little had not yet decomposed of her dress uniform was covered in dark blotches of mold.

“I grabbed it by the front of the uniform and pulled it up and just started screaming at it because… it was laughing at me. I started beating it, but it wouldn’t shut up, not even when there was practically nothing left but this… messy pulp. And then I realized that I was starting to fall apart myself, like… pieces of me were falling off. So, I just went to lie down in the ground. That’s when I woke up.”

“What do think it meant?”  
“You’re asking me?” Shepard scoffed and doctor Kennedy smiled. He was always asking her because he knew she had all the answers, she just lacked the motivation to look for them unprompted.

“Well, I guess it could be about this feeling I have had recently. All the things that used to make sense to me are falling apart, my life is falling apart, the person I thought I was is falling apart… and I don’t know how to stop it.”  
“I think that you are in shock.”

“Really?” Shepard asked, her eyebrows rising. She hadn’t considered that at all. Doctor Kennedy nodded.

“This is the first time you’ve had to stop and let everything that’s happened to you truly sink in. Up until now, you’ve preoccupied yourself with survival, then Alliance training, the N7-program, missions, the reaper war… and after the war you went looking for answers regarding your past, and now that you have them, you’ve had to stop and think about it all.”

“I suppose…”

“Then there was the revelation regarding Lilith…” doctor Kennedy trailed off and Shepard exhaled deeply. She knew what he meant. Shepard had spent all this time demonizing Lilith and now she was being told Lilith hadn’t been able to help the way she’d behaved.

“I feel like I’m not allowed to blame her, but I do. And then I feel guilty for blaming her because I know I shouldn’t. If anything, I should blame my mother for causing the injury in the first place. But I can’t fucking blame her either since she was insane, so now I’m just pissed off at them because they ruined my childhood, but I guess I’ll shrug it off because hey, they couldn’t help it,” Shepard spat irritably.

“You found your parents and lost them immediately after, have you taken the time to mourn the loss?” doctor Kennedy asked after a long moment of silence.

“I didn’t even know my mother and I certainly didn’t like my father, so it’s not as big a deal as it sounds,” Shepard dismissed in a mutter and they both knew she was trying to shrug off something that shouldn’t be ignored just like that. She hadn’t genuinely expected doctor Kennedy to let her get away with it.

“It doesn’t mean you don’t miss them. Have you grieved and mourned the loss?” he asked again, and Shepard sighed. No, she hadn’t. She’d grieved the loss of her potentially happy childhood, she’d mourned the missed chance. Her parents, not so much.  
“I don’t think I’d even know how to do that,” she said.

“You sure about that?”  
“All right, the truth is… I’m afraid of these types of emotions. I don’t want to go there, I don’t want to feel that way because it hurts.”

“I am sure it does, but that’s exactly why you should feel those emotions.”  
“And if I can’t?”

“Then you’ll have to allow yourself time. No matter how you approach this, you need to be patient with yourself. This isn’t something you can process overnight.”

“Great, I’m sure Samantha will love hearing that,” Shepard muttered sarcastically. Samantha hadn’t said as much but it was becoming obvious that Shepard had been stretching the limits of Samantha’s patience, and Shepard didn’t blame her for finally beginning to get fed up. She’d kept Samantha waiting for too long as it was.

“Perhaps she wouldn’t but I’m sure she would agree that it’s better for you both and your relationship if you allow yourself to heal.”  
“Yeah… I guess,” Shepard said but deep down, she didn’t think she had the right to ask for more time from Samantha.

The session was ending, and Shepard promised to take the time to grieve her parents, though she had no idea how to do it exactly. When she got home, the house was empty. Samantha had taken Janae and the dogs to the park for the day. Shepard went to her study and sat at the desk.

Shepard opened the list of audio files she’d found among Lilith’s datapads. She’d intentionally put off listening to them, she hadn’t wanted to know just how much had been lost when Lilith had stopped playing and composing music. Shepard turned the stereo on and listened.

Most of Lilith’s early work were short pieces composed for a solo piano, then there were songs that had more punch to them, massive string and brass sections with dramatic and uplifting build ups. She’d been talented. Yet another thing to add more to the injustice of what had happened.

The more Shepard thought about it, the more she realized she’d been actively avoiding this part of Lilith because she’d been so determined to keep hating her.

She’d always thought of her mother as a saint and her father as a monstrous criminal. That was something Shepard had come to terms with, had accepted, had been fine with. The reality was the father she’d loathed had been the one with a pure heart, forced to fall from grace by an injustice done to her by the insane angel she’d loved. The realization of that turned everything Shepard had believed of her parents upside-down.

“Why did all this have to happen?” Shepard asked from no one, leaning her forehead against her palm and exhaling angrily, her anger aimed at herself for suddenly feeling like crying over it all even if she knew it made no difference.

“Because if it hadn’t, you probably wouldn’t have gone through all the little details in your life that made you become the only one capable of saving the entire galaxy,” Lilith said. She sat sideways on the edge of Shepard’s desk, leaning her back to the wall, one leg bent at the knee and serving as an armrest.

“You’re not real,” Shepard mumbled.  
“I know, you’re seeing and hearing things. That’s something you get from your mother’s side,” Lilith chuckled and lit a cigarette, the metallic clicks of her lighter oddly loud. Shepard could practically smell the smoke.

“Marlboro red,” Shepard scoffed ruefully. She didn’t even know why she remembered that was the brand Lilith had favored.  
“Maybe I really have finally just lost my mind. I doubt it would come as news to anyone, really. Right, Mother?” she then smirked, but Lilith (or whatever ghost Shepard had imagined of her) was gone.

“Right,” Shepard answered her own question.

She opened the last file and noticed it was dated much later than the other work, it had been written sometime after Shepard had ran away from home. The style was different, Shepard liked the song more than she’d liked the previous ones, this one even had lyrics and she found herself listening intently to Lilith’s voice. When she sang, she didn’t sound at all like she did when she spoke, but then again, who did. Shepard sighed a little, another wave of unfamiliar sorrow washing over her. She put the song on repeat and turned to look at the open drawer in her desk.

She stared at the contents for several minutes, the devil on her shoulder debating the angel on the other. The devil won as he usually did because he was the one with the quick fix and the skills necessary to convince one to not give a damn about the consequences of taking shortcuts.

_“Cross every single line, get higher than a kite. Baby, what do you say to that?”_

Shepard took out the brick of red sand she’d stolen from Lilith’s office and stashed away. She didn’t even know why she’d done that, she hadn’t had any intention of using it when she’d grabbed it back then.

_“In the corner of this black heart a full deck of wild cards, tell me, are you scared to make a bet?”_

Shepard undid the packaging and leaned back in her chair, sighing deeply, knowing full well she would regret this… but that was a problem for tomorrow. She scooped up a small pile with her fingernail like Lilith had shown her to do long ago.

“It’ll make me feel better. Right, Mother?” Shepard scoffed amusedly to Lilith’s voice singing. She inhaled the red sand and sniffled a little afterward, rubbing her nose with her palm to banish the stinging feeling in her nostril. It took a few moments but yes, it did make her feel better.

 _“In the corner of this black heart a full deck of wild cards, are you in or are you out with all the sins I’m thinking about or do you have a better bad idea?”_ Shepard sang along happily, aware but not caring about the fact that her happiness was artificial, a façade fueled by intentionally tainted brain chemistry.

***


	14. Daymare

“I’m gonna fall!” Janae laughed hysterically.

“Naw, I got you, babygirl!” Shepard assured, laughing as well. Janae was sat on Shepard’s shoulders, gripping Shepard’s hair to keep herself from falling, Shepard holding on to the child’s leg, pressing her left palm against Janae’s back to keep her steady. Whiskey ran around in circles around them, jumping up and down, letting out excited yaps and yelps.

“Yeah, he’s got the right idea!” Shepard laughed and continued dancing, her moves as awkward as always, but what she lacked in skill, she was certainly making up for in enthusiasm.

It took Samantha a while to notice what was wrong with the picture. At first, she’d been delighted to see Shepard was up and having fun. Then she realized the biotic glow wasn’t emanating from Janae who was using her biotics to keep herself steady; the glow was on Shepard’s skin. She wasn’t a biotic so there was only one explanation to how it was possible.

“Sammy! Come join the party!” Shepard laughed happily when she noticed Samantha.  
“Sorry, I think I’ll pass, I’m not a big fan of country music…” she declined the offer.

“I’m not really either but I really like this one song,” Shepard chuckled.

Berating Shepard in front of Janae was beneath Samantha and as much as she hated having to let this go for now, she decided to do so. Liara would be by to pick her up later, Samantha could have a conversation with Shepard after that. Though, right now, she didn’t even know what she’d say.

She was angry and bitterly disappointed, she had expected better from Shepard. She was frustrated, mainly because of how Shepard was behaving but also because she knew she wasn’t allowed to get angry.

No, she wasn’t allowed to show her disappointment, she was supposed to just endlessly understand and support, to hell with how this all was hurting her, she wasn’t the one struggling with depression and addiction, she had no right to judge the poor tormented commander. She was supposed to put everything on hold and ignore her own wants and needs, focus all her energy on helping Shepard through this; only after that she would be allowed to ask for things for herself. It was so unfair it made Samantha want to scream.

“Hey, Jay-Jay?” Shepard huffed and stopped dancing, letting Janae down from her shoulders and knelt down to be on eye level with her.  
“Yeah, Max-Max?” Janae giggled, and Shepard did too as she put her hands on Janae’s shoulders.

“I love you,” she said very seriously.  
“I love you too,” Janae responded cheerfully and let herself be hugged tightly for a long while. When the doorbell rang, she ran off to pick up her backpack. She said goodbye to Shepard and headed to the door with Samantha to greet Liara who’d come over to pick her up. Thankfully, Shepard had the common sense to stay out of sight (or maybe it was a lucky coincidence), Samantha doubted Liara would ever bring Janae over again if she saw how irresponsible Shepard had been.

Deep down, Samantha knew she shouldn’t have covered for Shepard. Doing so was a slippery slope she didn’t wish to venture down because it was too easy to become an enabler for this behavior. But then again, she didn’t want to ruin Shepard’s opportunity of bonding with Janae; what little chance there was of that happening would be eradicated if Liara decided to cut Shepard from Janae’s life completely. Allowing that to happen wouldn’t serve Shepard or Janae.

“I’m the savior of the galaxy, why haven’t I been made into a PEZ-dispenser yet? I want to be a PEZ-dispenser. Not literally, don’t cut open my throat and twist my head until candy comes out, but figuratively. All the cool characters have been made into one throughout history,” Shepard said as she leaned back against the kitchen counter and took a long drink of water. Samantha switched the music off; as catchy as the song was, it had been playing on repeat for almost two hours and she’d had quite enough of it.

“I’m sensing hostility,” Shepard then said, staring at Samantha who folded her arms over her abdomen.  
“Good, because I’m furious!”

“I’m having a little trouble standing up, you can keep being mad at me but I’m just gonna sit down for a bit,” Shepard said, her dismissive attitude doing nothing to alleviate Samantha’s anger toward her right now.

“Sammy, why don’t we have kids?” Shepard then asked as she slumped onto the couch, Whiskey immediately making his way over to her and into her lap, claiming his favorite spot. Samantha couldn’t even think of a response to that, at least not a coherent one; she did consider just straight up screaming. She inhaled deeply through her nose and blew the breath out sharply through her mouth.

“ _You_ are asking _me_ that?” she scoffed, managing to keep her voice normal, the barely contained yell still very noticeable from the way she spoke through clenched teeth.

“I want us to have a baby… maybe even more than one. And I want us to get married. I want you legally bound to me before you come to your senses,” Shepard vexed but the sad thing was, Samantha was already becoming all too aware of Shepard’s dark side. She let out a defeated sigh. Being angry at Shepard right now was pointless, she didn’t notice, or she didn’t care. Besides, right now, Samantha found herself quickly going from angry to sad.

“And I want you… to tell me all those things when you’re sober.”

* * *

“Please, just… I don’t want you to look at me the way you’re looking at me right now,” Shepard said, her head hanging low, her face buried in her hand. She couldn’t even see how Samantha was regarding her, but she could _feel_ the glare, the disappointment.

“You know what? That works just fine because right now, I _don’t want_ to look at you!” Samantha snapped and turned, patting her thighs to encourage the dogs to come to her. She put their leashes on and began to guide them toward the door.

_You realize she’s going to leave you, right? Not that I blame her, but still, you’re just gonna let her walk out on you? I thought nobody does that, aren’t you always supposed to be the one doing the leaving?_ Lilith’s voice taunted in Shepard’s mind. She stood up and followed Samantha, reaching to lean to the door to force it closed just as Samantha was about to open it.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Samantha scoffed.  
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Shepard muttered.

“I was going to take the dogs for a walk.”  
“You taking the packed suitcase for a walk too?” Shepard inquired after glancing over Samantha’s shoulder through the window on the door, noticing the bag sitting on the porch.

_You’re so stupid, Maxima, how did you not even notice? Oh, right, you were busy indulging yourself,_ Lilith chuckled.

“You were sleeping it off, I wasn’t going to sneak out, but I wasn’t going to wait around for you to wake up either,” Samantha sighed.

_Either she’s lying, or she couldn’t wait to get away from you, either way sucks for you, doesn’t it, Maxima?_

“That’s it? You’re giving up?” Shepard spat.  
“I’m taking a break from you because after weeks of putting up with your problems I need to think, or I _will_ just leave for good because I honestly can’t fucking handle all your problems!” Samantha lost her temper, regretting putting it all so bluntly but not denying her meaning.

_You know if you let her leave she won’t come back.  
_ “Shut up, just shut up!” Shepard yelled, turning to swat the air beside her as if there were another person there when there wasn’t.

“Who are you talking to?” Samantha exclaimed softly. Shepard didn’t answer; instead, she reached to grab Samantha’s forearm to stop her from leaving. As she did, Krauser jumped to intervene, a low growl emanating from him as he bit down on Shepard’s wrist, not biting hard enough to cause serious damage, but his loyalties and intent made clear; he would protect Samantha from anyone, even Shepard.

“God damn it!” Shepard yelled and threw her arm to the side, then forcefully yanked it back, slipping from Krauser’s grip, sending the dog stumbling a little. He got back to his feet and barked at her, lunging toward her until Samantha tightened his leash to keep him away from Shepard. Admiral joined his bark and placed himself between Samantha and Shepard, but didn’t go to bite her, merely made it clear that he would if Shepard gave him a reason to. Whiskey looked confused and concerned, not sure what he was supposed to do.

While Shepard was still trying to come to terms with the fact that she’d just been bitten by her own dog, Samantha got outside, shut the door and grabbed the suitcase before hurrying over to the cab that was waiting for her. Shepard chased after her for a few solid minutes before finally becoming too winded to run after the car, giving up on the impossible task of trying to catch up.

_Well, well, well. Look who fucked up again. Oh, babygirl, you can’t do anything right, now can ya? Come on now. I know what’ll make you feel better._

“Leave me alone,” Shepard muttered as she walked back home, painfully aware of the curtains in the neighboring houses moving as curious spectators watched her walk of shame after the embarrassing chase. She was sure she’d get to read about this in the tabloids soon enough.

_Believe me, I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here, but the thing is, that tiny bit of crazy you awakened recently is only gonna grow, and I am a part of that and a part of you._

“Why are you doing this?” Shepard hissed, got back in the house and slammed the door shut.

_I’m not doing anything, I don’t have to. I’m just sitting back and watching you tear yourself apart. It’s all very much your own doing, Maxima._

“You’re not real,” Shepard breathed through clenched teeth as she made her way over to the office and rummaged through her desk drawers, surprised that Samantha hadn’t gone through them and thrown out her stash.  
_She left you the red sand because she doesn’t care anymore. If she hadn’t given up on you, she would’ve made and effort to help you. Not anymore._

“Shut up!” Shepard yelled in the empty room.

_I think it’s adorable you think telling me to shut up will actually work,_ Lilith laughed softly.  
“I need help,” Shepard said and swallowed hard. She’d admitted it when she’d agreed to start seeing Doctor Kennedy, but this was different. It was becoming evident that wasn’t enough.

_No one is going to help you. You’re finished._

Shepard inhaled a generous amount of red sand and little by little the voice quieted down. It didn’t disappear completely, the tone and the words remaining accusatory and hurtful. Shepard prepared another neat line of red sand onto the smooth wooden surface of her desk.

_Take as much of that shit as you want, it won’t change anything. I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart._

“I’ll shut you up,” Shepard muttered and inhaled another line, knowing somewhere in the back of mind that half of it was too much, but she didn’t care. If it would shut Lilith up, it was worth it.

***


	15. Windmills

“Sammy, you’re gonna have to eat something,” Deneen Traynor said and took a seat on the edge of the bed. Samantha had been staying at her parents’ house for about a week now, not disclosing completely why she’d come over, but her parents hadn’t needed her to, there was only one reason either could imagine why their daughter would come home with a suitcase and three dogs.

“I feel terrible for leaving,” Samantha said and sat up. She’d been crying and didn’t bother trying to hide it from her mother.

“I know you do, but you had to. There’s only so much support you can offer to someone who has decided not to accept the help, you can’t let them drag you down as well,” Deneen said, repeating the words she’d told Samantha a couple of times before now, needing her daughter to accept that she’d had no other choice unless she’d wanted to follow down Shepard’s path of destruction.

“I know, but she was trying, she really was. I pushed her into looking for closure, how am I supposed to not feel responsible? I’m the one who made an ultimatum to her, I told her I wouldn’t wait for much longer for her to get her act together,” Samantha sniffled a little.

“You didn’t tell her to fix it overnight, you waited for her to make progress, she’s the one who got impatient,” Deneen said sternly, not willing to listen to Samantha blame herself for Shepard’s decisions.  
“I miss her so much,” Samantha said, her mouth twisting a little as the tears began to rise up her throat once again. Deneen wrapped her arms around her and held her, running her fingers through Samantha’s hair and kissed the top of her head softly.

“I know you do, sweetheart. But you did the right thing by leaving. This is her battle,” she whispered.  
“Hasn’t she been through enough battles already? I’m the one who should support her.”

“Not at the expense of your own well-being and happiness. You _did_ support her, but she chose another path, you need to let her decide how she wants to spend the rest of her life.”  
“And what if she chooses to stay on the path she’s on right now?” Samantha said and let out a shuddering breath as another wave of tears pushed through her.

“Then there’s already nothing you can do, she’s made her decision.”

“No, I can’t accept that,” Samantha shook her head and sat up straight again. “If there’s one thing I learned from Shepard, it’s that you never give up. Not when your entire future is at stake. She faced the impossible and pulled through. I don’t know how, but she did it. This is the least I can do for her.”

“Samantha…”  
“Excuse me,” a male voice said softly from the door. After being acknowledged, Siddharth “Sid” Traynor pushed the door open completely and cleared his throat a little awkwardly.

“There’s a call for you, Samantha. I believe it’s about Shepard,” Sid said quietly and the grim look on his face spoke volumes of how serious the matter had to be. Samantha stood and went to take the call, her parents staying behind to offer her some privacy.

“Liara? What can I do for you?”  
“Shepard’s in the hospital. I’m sending you a link to a vid about what happened, she was… well, you can see for yourself. She’s all right, but… she needs to stay in there for a while,” Liara explained on the screen.

“What do you mean?” Samantha frowned.

“Just watch the vid, you’ll understand,” Liara said before giving Samantha the location of the hospital where Shepard was and ending the call. When Samantha looked up the establishment, she realized it was not just any other rehabilitation facility, it was a mental hospital.

“Oh, no,” Samantha mumbled and opened the link Liara had sent. It led to a wide spread news piece about Commander Shepard who had become agitated and erratic at a shopping mall. The vid was comprised of security camera feeds and vids recorded by those who’d been there to witness it.

A woman approached Shepard on the vid, asking if she was the commander and proceeding to request for an autograph and a photo with the commander even after Shepard told her no, repeatedly. Finally, the woman became upset and told Shepard she’d let fame go to her head and other less than flattering things about her, until Shepard lost her temper.

_“I saved your ass!”_ she yelled in the vid, using the biotics red sand had granted her to lift the woman off the ground.

_“I saved all of you! I made the sacrifices and the tough decisions, all you did was wait for someone to save you!”_ Shepard screamed to the crowd gathering around her, the people taking several steps back when she swung her arm toward them to indicate them all; her biotics weren’t strong enough to harm them, but they didn’t know that.

_“What did you ever do for me? What did you do for anyone? You cowered like the cowards you are, and you have the audacity to demand my attention? What the fuck makes you think you’re so special you have the right to my time, huh? I don’t owe you anything!”_ Shepard shouted and hurled her (by now former) fan across the area, sending her crashing through the glass door of the nearby fast food restaurant.

The article went on to tell the woman hadn’t been seriously injured but she was demanding that Commander Shepard be brought to answer for her actions, a fool’s wish considering Shepard was still a Spectre and above the law, but the Council had commented that they would be reviewing Shepard’s Spectre status now that the incident had been brought to their attention. In the meanwhile, the commander had been taken into custody and detained in a high security rehabilitation center to have her mental state evaluated and she would remain there until the Council had reached a decision regarding her Spectre status or until she was deemed no longer a threat to herself or to others.

“I have to go,” Samantha said after returning to her room where her parents were still waiting for her.  
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Sid said. He’d obviously seen the news report too but had decided not to mention it to Samantha.

“I understand you’re worried, but I’m fine, Shepard isn’t, she needs me,” Samantha said, reaching to hastily grab some of the belongings she’d unpacked.

“Sammy, listen to me. She’s unstable, you could be in danger,” Sid tried, and Samantha paused. It didn’t surprise her that her father would think so of Shepard. He’d always been skeptical of Shepard and her mental health and he’d made no attempts to hide his suspicion, not before he’d learned that Samantha was dating Shepard, and certainly not after.

“I can’t believe I have to defend her and her actions to you. You were here when the collectors came, you were taken to their ship, Shepard saved you! Shepard and her crew, no one else.”

“I remember. Believe me, I do. But I also know that Shepard is ruthless, her reputation precedes her, always did because she was the one who got the job done, no questions asked. And at some point, you have to wonder if it’s all worth it. How can you be sure?” Sid asked.

“She wasn’t mentally unstable, she wasn’t high, she was right about everything.”  
“She was, that time. That’s not how she is now, is it? Who is she fighting now?” Deneen chimed in and Samantha frowned at her, not believing her ears.

“For all I know, you’re right, maybe she is tilting at windmills, but I’m certain it’s all very real for her, and I have no intention of abandoning her!” Samantha snapped, shut her suitcase and began to drag it outside.  
“Sam!”

“No! Just, no. I know you mean well, but this isn’t how it goes, Shepard deserves better, especially from me. Please, just… look after my dogs while I’m gone, okay?” she requested, and her parents sighed in unison at her determined defiance.  
“All right.”

“Deneen, you can’t be serious,” Sid argued, and she rolled her eyes at him.

“Well, what would you have me do, ground her to her room? As if that had ever stopped her from sneaking out,” she smirked a little and Sid let out an amused scoff. Deneen was right and he too knew his daughter well enough to know she wouldn’t be stopped when she really wanted something.

“Call us when you get there and keep us updated,” Sid said instead of trying to convince her to stay.  
“I promise.”

* * *

_You just keep discovering new and exciting ways to increase the suffering of those around you, don’t you, Maxima?_ Lilith smiled sweetly.

“You’re not real,” Shepard whispered to herself. She sat on the floor of her room, a small space but relatively comfortable considering where she was; not at all like you saw in old vids where mental hospitals were depicted as places to be afraid of, places where people were committed to in order to be forgotten. Out of sight, out of mind.

There were dangerous people here, people far more dangerous than Shepard. People who had no way back, who would never recover and would not hesitate to injure another or take a life if given half the chance. Then there were those who just had no idea what was happening, people who had seen too much death and had their minds break at the violent vistas, people who had lost everything and hadn’t been able to handle it. People who had voluntarily come in because they’d felt they were on the verge of breaking down.

Then there were people like Shepard. People who thought they were in control, who thought they were all right, who thought they could handle it… until something finally snapped, and they weren’t given a choice. People who intentionally hurt themselves. People who couldn’t control their desire to continue on their self-destructive paths despite knowing better.

_Didn’t she tell you not to let the demons take you, hm? You should’ve listened to mother damnest,_ Lilith said.

Shepard could not longer see her, but she could hear her voice, her footsteps, the click of her lighter and the soft crackling sound the cigarette made when burned as it was lit and sucked on. She could smell the smoke, the stagnant nicotine-laced stench of it clinging to her nostrils. She knew it wasn’t real, it couldn’t be, but at the same time, it felt real. All the sensations, voices, the heaviness of Lilith’s presence hovering over Shepard, casting an impossible shadow over her.

“You’re not real.”

_Would you stop saying that?  Clearly, I’m here. I know you, your life, your secrets. I know the things you don’t dare to admit to yourself. I know why you never asked Samantha to marry you, I know the real reason you put off having kids with her,_ Lilith whispered, and Shepard could feel her breath in her ear.

_Because she is not me. You know how it is, little girls always go for the one who is most like their father, especially the girls who have daddy issues. I think we can agree there is no shortage of those with you,_ Lilith chuckled, her voice soft and raspy, harshened by years of drinking and smoking.

“Leave me alone,” Shepard cried, tired of arguing back, no fight left. This was turning into the one battle she wasn’t capable of winning because her enemy was she herself.

_Now, what kind of a father would I be if I abandoned my baby girl? Tsk, come on now. All those years you worked so hard for my love and attention. Well, here I am, all yours._

“I don’t need you anymore!”

_You might very well think that, but you’re wrong. Whose strength and teachings did you always call upon when faced with the impossible? Your mother’s? Her faith? No, no, no, you asked yourself “what would Lilith do”, and you know what Lilith always did? She got the fucking job done. And now you’re free and clear from everything, from the weight of the galaxy,_ Lilith said.

Shepard covered her ears in vain, knowing it wouldn’t be enough to block out the voice since it emanated from within, but it was all she could do, and she had to do something.

_You did your part. Let’s face it, Samantha did you a favor when she left you. Liara did you a favor when she left you. Sure, there’s the kid, but we’ve already established you don’t love her either. You don’t love anyone. Everything you did was out of a sense of duty. So, what’s holding you back now, hm? Isn’t this what you always wanted? You’re free, no longer bound by your fear of your so-called friends rejecting you after seeing the real you._

“I’m not listening!” Shepard yelled, frantically rubbing her palms over her ears to drown out the voice into the soft scratching sound.

_You didn’t ask to be the savior and now you’re free. Embrace it, embrace who you are._

“Leave me alone!” Shepard screamed once more and this time her agitation caught the staff’s attention. The door to her room was opened and two nurses walked in with a Krogan security guard who proceeded to hold Shepard still while the nurse administered the sedative, calmly assuring Shepard that everything was all right.

“I know, I know…” he said softly.  
“I can’t…” Shepard mumbled, beginning to feel drowsy.

“It’ll be better in the morning,” the nurse smiled gently as Shepard’s eyes closed and she passed out.

***


	16. Losing the insanity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toward the end of this chapter, there's an unpleasant flashback to Shepard's past, so trigger warning for rape; it's not described in detail because it makes me uncomfortable but it's also a necessary part of the character's history so it does have a place in the story despite being an uncomfortable subject. I'm sure you'll notice when the scene is about to start so you should be able to skim past it relatively easily.

_You should’ve done everyone a favor and died when you blew up that power conduit._

Shepard exhaled deeply and turned to stare at the floor. She wasn’t sad. She wasn’t angry. She was just exhausted, and Lilith’s voice in her head kept whittling her down, one thin slice at a time. Intellectually, she knew it wasn’t Lilith, it was her own voice, her own guilt, her own insecurities manifesting as the voice of the one person who had put her down her entire life. But knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Maxima?”  
“What?” Shepard looked up.

“You were telling me about your nightmares,” Doctor Kennedy reminded her.  
“They’re just getting weirder, that’s all. Like, I was in prison for war crimes and I killed and tortured people while I was there. And… I… um… there were some physical abnormalities.”

“Can you elaborate?”  
“I was me, but I was also my brother. Like, my _lower half_ was my brother,” Shepard said slowly, not really wanting to go into the details. Thankfully, Doctor Kennedy seemed to understand what she meant. He simply nodded and waited for her to continue.

“There was this kid. He looked like the boy I saw get killed the day Earth was invaded, but in the dream, he was my son. He was running away from me, he feared me. I don’t know why. It’s all just really weird and confusing, it doesn’t matter, it’s just a dream,” Shepard mumbled, and Doctor Kennedy took the hint, deciding not to ask Shepard to continue discussing it, clearly she didn’t want to.

“Have you been seeing Lilith still?”  
“No.”

“Hearing her?”  
“…yeah. I mean, I know it’s not really her, I’m not crazy.”

“No one is saying that you are,” he assured softly. Shepard scoffed. It certainly didn’t feel like that. She hadn’t been actively looking herself up on the Extranet or the news, but she couldn’t avoid hearing about it either. People loved to speculate, and they certainly loved to gossip about the rise and fall of a certain commander.

“…I just want to get well.”  
“You will. In time.”

* * *

“Won’t somebody tell me something!” Samantha demanded agitatedly at the front desk.  
“I’m sorry, I can’t. You realize we can’t divulge patient information to just anyone, especially when considering who you’re asking about. You think you’re the first person to come inquire about her?”

“But I’m Shepard’s…” Samantha began to say but couldn’t finish her argument. She wasn’t Shepard’s wife, she wasn’t officially her spouse or named as someone who should be kept up to date regarding Shepard’s medical records. As far as the world was concerned, she was no one significant.

“Are you here about Shepard?” a tall man with dirty blond hair inquired after emerging from a room to see what the ruckus was about.  
“I am! Please, can I see her?” Samantha asked, glancing at his name tag and realizing he was the psychiatrist Shepard had been seeing.

“And you are?” he asked.  
“Samantha Traynor,” she introduced herself and offered her ID as proof, and he nodded before gesturing toward a set of double doors at the end of the hallway and she followed him.

“Is Shepard all right?” Samantha asked, not questioning how he knew to let her near Shepard when everyone else had adamantly refused. Perhaps Shepard had spoken of her to him.

“She is getting better,” was all Doctor Kennedy was prepared to disclose as he escorted her to the room where Shepard sat at a table, picking at her snack slowly, leaning her head to her hand, looking rather bored and tired. There was something about gray hospital-issue sweatpants and hoodie and plain white T-shirt that somehow sucked the life and color out of anyone wearing the combination.

“Samantha!” Shepard exclaimed softly and stood up, hurrying over to her and was about to hug her but stopped herself when she recalled what the circumstances had been the last time she’d seen Samantha. She hesitated, unsure if Samantha would want to be hugged by her right now after everything. Samantha noticed and went to eagerly wrap her arms around Shepard, her act silently letting her know it was all right.

“I’m so sorry I left you like that,” Samantha whispered, slipped her hands underneath the hoody to feel Shepard’s back under it, holding onto her tightly.  
“No, it’s okay. I understand, and I don’t blame you at all,” Shepard assured her quietly, hugging her back.

“What happened?” Samantha then asked, and they went to sit at the table. Shepard sighed and smiled ruefully.

“Don’t worry, me talking to the voices I heard in my head wasn’t schizophrenia. Granted, self-medicating with red sand was a terrible idea regardless,” she said with a tiny rueful smirk. “I had a mental breakdown. I guess everything just finally caught up to me. But I’m working on it…”

“Will you be all right?” Samantha asked, and Shepard nodded a little.  
“I think so. They’re taking good care of me; Doctor Kennedy is optimistic. I should be able to go home soon. I guess what I really want to know is… will you be there when I get home?” Shepard then inquired timidly.  
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

_view in full size[here](https://www.deviantart.com/helenasterling/art/I-just-want-to-get-well-769061354)._

* * *

 

Shepard didn’t mean to spy on Samantha, but even she wasn’t above pausing to listen when she heard her own name come up in a conversation between two others. Samantha was on a call with her parents, originally making plans regarding going back to pick up the dogs, but the conversation had steered to Shepard and the state of her mental health quickly enough.

Shepard had spent the last four weeks in the hospital before getting released home on the stipulation that she continues her weekly appointments with Doctor Kennedy. She’d had no objections. Her Spectre status was still under revision, but she wasn’t too worried about that; she hadn’t really had much need for the authority that came with the title since the war. If she’d end up getting sued or prosecuted for the assault on the woman she’d thrown through the glass, she’d deal with that like any other person would. Granted, with her reputation, it would be difficult to put together a jury that wouldn’t be biased in one direction or the other; if it ended up going to court, the odds were it would end in a mistrial after the jury deadlocks.

“You are sure it is safe? Because you know I’ll get you home if need be, I don’t care who I need to go through,” Sid’s voice came over the comm.  
“Dad, please. You make it sound like Shepard’s holding me hostage, which she is not. And I’m not in any danger, if there ever was someone who’d keep me safe, it’s Shepard.”

“Yes, when the enemy is someone else; what happens when Shepard is the threat?” Sid grumbled.  
“That’s what I’m saying, Shepard is not a threat to me,” Samantha argued in exasperation.

Shepard sighed deeply as she listened. As much as she hated hearing it all, she hated having to agree that Sid had the right to question her more. He’d never been a fan of Shepard’s, and he’d never hid it. It didn’t matter what heroic acts of epic proportions Shepard had done, Sid wasn’t looking at those, he was looking at who Shepard was as a person… and as a person, as far as Sid was concerned, Shepard left a lot to be desired.

She was an Alliance marine, an N7, a Spectre, a savior. She was also a former drug dealer, a recovering drug addict, a former prostitute, a murderer (depending on whose opinion you asked), and recently officially deemed mentally unstable. Simply put, she was damaged goods.

Had her daughter been dating someone like that, Shepard too would’ve been very suspicious and unlikely to just shrug and be okay with it, so she couldn’t hold Sid’s negative attitude toward her against him. It didn’t make it hurt any less to realize that she could keep swearing she’d never hurt Samantha and it wouldn’t make a difference because evidently, Shepard couldn’t always be trusted to be in control of herself. There was no way she could be certain that Lilith’s voice in her head wouldn’t come back. There was no way of telling what could trigger it and how bad it would be if it happened again. She hadn’t seriously injured anyone this time, but it was a fact that she was more than capable if things went to hell and she would be too late to realize it and change course.

Shepard went to the bedroom and undressed before getting in bed. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day.

 _Unless my last good day went by already,_ Shepard mused and closed her eyes, sighing deeply. Samantha entered the room and moved around quietly, probably assuming Shepard was already asleep. She slid under the covers and went to spoon Shepard, burying her face into the thick blonde hair, holding onto Shepard tightly.

“Sam…” she said softly and interlaced her fingers with Samantha’s, squeezing her hand firmly, Samantha’s forearm tucked against Shepard’s chest.

“I’m right here,” she responded quietly and nuzzled the back of Shepard’s neck. Shepard smiled a little when she felt the side of Samantha’s thumb lightly caress the top of Shepard’s breast. A subtle, undemanding inkling toward an initiation. Shepard untangled her fingers from Samantha’s and shifted a little on the bed, offering her better access and she took the invitation, moving to cup Shepard’s breast gently.

Shepard couldn’t recall the last time they’d made love. It had to have been a couple of months at least. The medication she’d been put on hadn’t done any favors to her sex drive which had never been very high to begin with (contrary to what a lot of people liked to believe of her). It was true she’d slept with a lot of people, but never because she’d wanted to do it. She knew she’d been Liara’s first and in a way, Liara had been her first too; she’d been the first person Shepard had _wanted_ to share herself with like that.

Samantha tucked Shepard’s hair out of the way and rose to lean on her forearm, moving to plant gentle kisses along the side of Shepard’s neck. Samantha slid her hand slowly lower along Shepard’s body, her touch light but not so much it would tickle. She enclosed her lips around Shepard’s earlobe and sucked on it softly, her hand traveling along Shepard’s body, slowly and gently exploring what was by now familiar ground to her but always just as exciting to feel as it had been the first time.

 _Your mind is such a fickle fuck, isn’t it?_ Lilith’s voice came out of nowhere unprompted, ramming through Shepard’s consciousness bluntly, and in an instant, she was slingshot to somewhere else in her mind. She wasn’t in her bed, she was on the ground, the cold, wet asphalt pressing painfully against her shoulder blades and buttocks. There were three assailants. One of them was holding her arms above her head, pinning them down from the wrists. The other was doing the same to her ankles. The third straddled her midsection, a silvery string of thick saliva glistening in the corner of his mouth thanks to the maniacal grin he’d had glued on his face for several minutes now, offering him no change to swallow.

He made a wicked remark about choking her with his dick before reaching to pinch her nostrils shut, forcing her to open her mouth if she intended to breathe.

_I’m not here. I’m not here. I’m not here._

Eventually, the burning sensation in her lungs that were demanding for air overpowered even the pain of the first of her many rapists violently penetrating her, and she clamped her teeth down on the foul-tasting member invading her mouth. The dirty human screamed and scampered to his feet, clutching his crotch, a generous amount of blood flowing through his fingers from the wound Shepard had caused when she’d torn off a strip of his flesh with her teeth. As expected, such an act didn’t go unpunished, and before she knew it, she’d gotten her reward which was a swift, forceful kick in the head. She didn’t know what they’d done to her after she’d lost consciousness, but from the pain she’d been in for days afterward, she was glad she’d been unconscious when the injuries had been inflicted.

That had been the first time something like that had happened to her, and unbelievably, that had been one of the more merciful times; at least she’d been out cold for the worst of it. She hadn’t always been that lucky.

“Shepard?”  
“Mnhuh?” she grunted softly, Samantha’s voice dragging her back to the surface from the deep ocean of bad memories.

“Where are you?” Samantha asked softly, the phrase she’d used more often in this situation than she cared to think.  
“I’m right here,” Shepard said, like she always did.  
“No, you’re not,” Samantha argued gently, and Shepard gave up trying to pretend everything was okay.

“I’m sorry,” she said, the muscles in her jaw pumping as she repeatedly bit her teeth together and worked to stiffen her lips so they wouldn’t quiver as the tears began to bubble to the surface.  
“You don’t have to be,” Samantha assured and wrapped her arms around Shepard who tucked her head underneath Samantha’s chin and pressed her face into the side of her neck.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated.  
“It’s okay,” Samantha said and ran her finger through Shepard’s hair. “It’s okay,” she mumbled quietly against the top of Shepard’s head and moved to kiss her forehead as Shepard put her arm around Samantha and tightened her grip on her.

“I know I’m in no position to ask, but… please, don’t leave me,” Shepard requested weakly, her voice laced with thick sadness.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” Samantha promised. “I love you.”  
“I love you too. With my whole heart.”

***


	17. Hope and pain

“I’ve been having weird dreams again. They’re borderline nightmares, but not scary as much as just… depressing,” Shepard began and settled to lay on her back on the couch in Doctor Kennedy’s office. The soft leather creaked a little as she moved on it. Doctor Kennedy didn’t comment, simply waited for her to continue as he often did.

“Sometimes I’m witnessing my own funeral, but instead of burying me, everyone attending begins to tear me apart and cutting pieces of me for themselves.”

“What do you think it means?”

“How am I supposed to know, you’re the professional here,” Shepard scoffed. She appreciated his intention to help her find the tools to unlocking the chests she kept buried in her subconscious so that she’d be able to manage on her own one day, but right now she would’ve preferred simple answers from him rather than have to figure it out herself.

“I don’t know,” she sighed in exasperation, “maybe it’s just something as simple as me still getting pissed off about all the times everyone wanted me to do their dirty work for them, all the way from Hackett constantly asking me to run his errands to everyone coming crying to me about how their people are suffering and how they want me to save them, when I’d spent years trying to warn them, and no one listened! And then they blame _me_ for their problems and feast on all the problems I’m going through afterward, I’m a fucking joker to these people, and I’m stupidly just feeding the mouth that bites me, but it’s not like I have choice, because I can’t just have a normal life, everyone knows me, and I hate it!” she ranted.

Doctor Kennedy nodded, knowing better than to interrupt her, simply made some notes as he listened.

“Then there’s the dreams in which I’m strapped to an altar of some kind and I’m… it’s happening, endlessly, I mean, I can’t feel it, but I know I’m being raped, I’m being grabbed, bitten, beaten, all that shit, again and again, and again. I can’t see their faces, but I’m glad for that, because I don’t want to know who they are. But at the same time, whenever a stranger looks at me for a long time… I wonder if he’s one of them from back then. If he remembers me, if he did something to me. Or is it just that he’s staring because he recognizes me as the fucking savior of the galaxy. I have no way of knowing, short of just straight up asking them, I guess, but what are the odds they’d admit to anything even if they were one of the rapists from my past?” Shepard said. Doctor Kennedy crossed one leg over the other, opened his mouth slightly to finally speak, but Shepard spoke again before he could.

“One thousand-seven-hundred-twenty-six. That’s how many times I was raped. That I know of, there were times when I was too drunk or high to know anything about what was happening around me,” Shepard said. Doctor Kennedy nodded and waited for a moment, giving her the chance to continue if she had something to add. Shepard hated discussing these things for obvious reasons, but she had come to acknowledge she would need to do it. Still, right now, she would’ve rather been fighting a reaper than sitting here. She could’ve at least shot a reaper, she couldn’t do that to her problems; unless putting a bullet through her own head counted, but frankly, she didn’t consider that an option.

“I don’t… I don’t like sex, there, I said it. Or, well, I don’t like it being done to me. Wow, I sound like twelve-year old who has no idea what she’s talking about, don’t I?” Shepard laughed ruefully and Doctor Kennedy offered a smile.  
“You don’t like being touched sexually?” he suggested, and Shepard snapped her fingers.

“Yeah, that’s it,” she agreed and sat up on the couch. “I mean, I like the other stuff. You know, making out, fondling, cuddling, hugging, what have you, I like all that very much. I’d just rather leave it at that.”  
“How about in reverse, do you dislike touching Samantha?”

“No, no!” Shepard shook her head. “That’s never been a problem and that’s what I’ve been telling her, repeatedly. I love pleasing her. But I don’t know if she believes me anymore. That’s the issue.”  
“And you’ve explained to her why you don’t want to be touched?”

“Kind of. I’ve told her about my past… not in explicit detail, because frankly, it’s bad enough that shit’s in my head, I don’t want to put into hers as well. But she is aware of it and my reasons.”  
“Has she specifically said she understands why you don’t want to move beyond foreplay, or does she feel rejected?” Doctor Kennedy pushed.

“I guess she might… I try to tell her it’s not her and it’s not that I don’t want her, because I do, but I just… don’t know how to convince her that I prefer pleasing her and am happy to just leave it at that, you know?” Shepard sighed in exasperation.

She couldn’t understand why she was finding it so difficult to explain herself about this. She wasn’t shy or embarrassed to discuss sex frankly, but she didn’t know how to express what she felt. Not to Samantha, not to Doctor Kennedy when either prodded her about the subject.

“Have you ever considered that you might be asexual?” he inquired, and she sighed deeply again.  
“I hadn’t thought about it but even if I am, having a label to associate with myself doesn’t change how I unintentionally end up making Sam feel unwanted because I can’t get it up, so to speak.”

Doctor Kennedy failed in his attempt to disguise the chortle which escaped from him into a cough, but Shepard forgave him for it.

“Okay, that isn’t correct, I _can_ get turned on, I just don’t want to do anything about it. Plus, now with the meds I’m on, I’m even less interested in sex than I was before.”  
“Have you sat down to discuss this properly with Samantha?” Doctor Kennedy asked.

“We’ve talked about it, but I don’t know. I guess I haven’t explained myself well enough. I just feel so shitty over it, you know? I can’t even do this one thing right. I mean, it’s fucking sex, for pity’s sake, the one thing every being in the galaxy should be able to figure out and be capable of doing, but no, not me, of course not!” Shepard spat and ran her hand through her hair agitatedly.

“Maxima, there is nothing wrong with you,” Doctor Kennedy assured her.  
“It certainly doesn’t feel like that!”

“Why not? What specifically makes you feel that way?” Doctor Kennedy asked, and Shepard stared at him like he was a moron for asking such an obvious thing.  
“I’m prone to hearing voices and seeing visions, I can’t perform sexually, I have a child with whom I don’t know how to connect emotionally, and the only thing I’m really good at is killing things. Does that sound like a normal, well-balanced individual to you, doctor!” she spat agitatedly.

“That sounds like a veteran who saw too much. You’re not alone with these problems, and you should know there are countless of soldiers who have similar experiences and difficulty adjusting to civilian life after the war, it isn’t uncommon to react this way. Adding all that on top of the trauma you went through growing up, it would be strange if you came out as a well-balanced individual; the fact that you’re processing all this makes you more balanced than you would be if you kept denying it all,” Doctor Kennedy said, and Shepard sighed. That was the long way of saying he believed she’d have to be a complete psycho to not be affected by what she’d been through, and right now, she would’ve preferred that over the mess of irritating and illogical feelings and fears she was forced to deal with.

“I just… want to get well,” she sighed, a phrase she’d found herself saying rather often these days.  
“And you will, you just need to be patient.”

“I’m not very good at waiting.”  
“I’ve noticed,” Doctor Kennedy smiled. “Have you and Samantha ever considered attending couples’ therapy?” he then asked, and Shepard’s eyebrow rose at the question.

“We haven’t discussed anything like that, so I don’t know what she’s thinking, but I hadn’t considered it. I mean, no offense, but it’s bad enough I have to see you all the time,” Shepard smirked.  
“None taken,” he chuckled, “but I suggest you bring the subject up with her, see how she feels about it. I have colleagues I can recommend if need be.”

“Fine, I’ll ask her about it,” Shepard gave in.

She supposed it might be worth a shot, it was certainly beginning to seem she herself didn’t have what it would take to fix everything that had gone wrong in her and Samantha’s relationship recently, the sad thing being most of it was probably due to misunderstandings and misinterpretations of certain tones of voice and body language, things that could’ve been sorted out easily had either one known how to communicate to the other what their actual intention was. To Shepard, it was beginning to seem that the more she tried to elaborate and explain, the worse she made things.

* * *

Samantha sucked in a shuddering breath and sniffled, wiped her eyes and exhaled deeply deciding that was enough crying for today. Shepard would be getting back soon, and the last thing Samantha wanted was to explain to her why she’d been crying. Shepard would think it was about her when it wasn’t, at least not in the sense that she’d assume.

She’d been crying because she’d let herself take a long moment to consider the possibility of never having a baby. That had been brought on by a call from her oldest and dearest friend Marian who had very recently become a mother herself. She’d called to ask Samantha is she’d do her the honor of being the child’s godmother. She’d agreed, and when the call had ended after they’d chit-chatted about this and that, Samantha had felt an overwhelming sadness pour over her.

Sadness which followed the incredible amount of envy she’d felt when she’d watched Marian hold her two-day old baby, the unbelievably small human sleeping soundly on his mother’s chest, his head tucked underneath her chin, Marian’s arm underneath him to keep him still, her palm on his back covering most of his body only emphasizing how tiny the baby was still. Samantha had tried dispelling the sadness by thinking that soon she’d be the one calling Marian to ask her the same.

She’d imagined that maybe she’d have twins, they seemed to run in Shepard’s family, and with the fertility treatments Samantha had been undergoing, the odds were she’d end up carrying twins. She’d tried to imagine what it would feel like to have a life growing inside her, and what the baby (or babies) would look like, how it would feel holding the child.

Then she’d scolded herself for getting ahead of herself and stopped to consider the reality which was that Shepard was still nowhere near ready to go through with this, it wouldn’t happen as soon as Samantha wanted it to, worst case scenario, it wouldn’t happen at all, at least not like Samantha had imagined it would. If anything, it was beginning to look like she’d need to do it by herself.

_Might pull a Liara and just use Shepard’s genetic material to have a baby and never tell her about it. I mean, as far as Shepard’s part of the process goes, she’s done, I could do that,_ Samantha mused, realizing she was being rather unfair toward Liara considering that had she been given the option to do what Liara had done, she would’ve done the same in that situation.

That said, she didn’t think Shepard would forgive her if she did do that, and frankly, if Shepard wasn’t committed to this with her, she wouldn’t want to have a child with Shepard anyway, she’d rather pick a donor from a catalogue if that were the case. She didn’t want to have to go down that path, but she hadn’t ruled it out. She’d just need to figure out where exactly Shepard stood with all this before she’d make her decision.

_Why does everything have to be complicated?_

Samantha splashed cold water onto her face in an attempt to dispel the unpleasant puffiness and redness that had followed the tears. It didn’t exactly work like magic, but it did soothe the mild sting in her eyes.

“Sam?” Shepard called out after getting inside and Samantha sighed a little at her voice. She’d hoped Shepard would take a while longer to get back.  
“I’ll be right there,” she responded and dried her face before heading downstairs.

“Hey,” Shepard smiled and went to hug Samantha when she saw her.  
“Hey,” Samantha responded and hugged her back, but with less enthusiasm. If she was honest, she wasn’t really in the mood for pleasantries such as this, and Shepard noticed it.

“…is everything okay?” she asked, pulling back from the hug. Samantha exhaled sharply through her nose and shrugged one shoulder.  
“Yes and no.”

“Any chance you’d want to elaborate?” Shepard chuckled awkwardly.  
“I don’t know that I can,” Samantha responded. _Not without hurting your feelings anyway,_ she added mentally, because if she was honest, the part that wasn’t okay right now was that Shepard was here. She didn’t want to see her right now. She felt horrible for thinking it considering how terrified she’d always been of losing Shepard, of not seeing her, but right now, she would’ve preferred being alone.

“Are you upset with me?” Shepard frowned.  
“I don’t know! Look, just… I don’t know what to tell you right now,” Samantha admitted reluctantly.

“Oh—kay,” Shepard said slowly and nodded a little. She ran her hand through her blonde hair, her fingers stopping to awkwardly scratch the back of her head as she made a soft humming noise, trying to figure out what to say.

“I… guess I’ll go over to my study and check my inbox, and leave you alone for now, then,” she mumbled, and Samantha knew that Shepard would’ve wanted to hear an objection from Samantha, hear she didn’t want Shepard to leave her alone, that she would’ve preferred discussing things with her, but Samantha didn’t say it.

“All right,” she agreed instead, and Shepard looked genuinely surprised by that. She stood there for a while longer, perhaps expecting Samantha to change her mind, and when she didn’t, Shepard finally moved, continuing through the house and into her study.

_You ruined my life by having me fall in love with you and promising me a family, and at this point, I don’t know if I can live without you but I can’t live with you either, and I don’t know what to do about it, I don’t want to be angry at you, but I am because this is your fault,_ Samantha thought bitterly and went to grab herself a beer from the fridge. She slumped into a chair at the kitchen table, popped the cap and took a long drink from the bottle.

_You should’ve left good enough alone, but you had to go digging and spiral out of control because of what you found, and now you keep coming up with an excuse after an excuse to not go through with this with me, and you don’t have the guts to just admit what this is about, that you don’t want a baby with_ me _. It’s become sickeningly obvious I’m the problem here, why would you want to commit to me permanently by having a child with me, you haven’t probably even ever considered proposing to me, whereas you were pretty damn quick to jump to marriage, old age and a lot of little blue children with Liara._

Samantha took another mouthful of beer and slammed the bottle down furiously, the drink foaming generously thanks to the impact, climbing up the bottle’s neck.

“Damn it,” she cursed when the foam flooded from the bottle’s throat and spilled over her hand and onto the table. She got up, cleaned the table with a wet dish towel and then rinsed her hand and the side of the bottle.

_Do you even want her anymore?_

Samantha stopped in her tracks when the unexpected thought bludgeoned its way through her mind.

_Or are you just stubbornly clinging onto Shepard because you think you have to make it work after everything you went through already, because you’ve already spent so much time waiting for her that leaving her now would be like giving up just before the finish line, even though you have no idea if the finish line is even really there?_

Samantha swallowed hard at the thought, feeling incredibly distressed over the fact that she was drawing blanks when she tried to think of reasons to stay with Shepard when she left out the things she’d so adamantly kept forcing on herself and on Shepard to make their relationship work. It made no sense, they’d started out so well, so in love despite everything going to hell around them, comfortable with each other, they’d made each other happy, there’d always been undeniable chemistry between them; what the hell happened to all that? Was it just the natural consequence of them both coming down from the high of having survived the reaper war, the boring every day life with the boring problems proving to be too much for them to handle, that they were good together only when the existence of the entire galaxy was at stake? Samantha refused to believe that was true, but hard as she tried, she couldn’t think of anything that would contradict it either.

Samantha sighed deeply and silently asked herself the thing she’d had to ask more often than she felt comfortable admitting to.

_Does the thought of leaving her make me feel sad or relieved?_

Sad. For now. But it was becoming increasingly difficult to answer the question quickly and with clarity.

“Sam?” Shepard’s voice inquired from the door and she jumped a little, startled awake from her thoughts.  
“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.”  
“I know you are, but right now that’s not going to do anything for me because you keep telling me you’re sorry over every little thing but nothing ever changes, so what does it matter that you’re sorry if you’re not going to do anything to fix the thing you’re apologizing for?” Samantha snapped, surprising herself and Shepard with her frankness and the sharp words. She hadn’t meant to be that blunt. That said, what good had coddling Shepard done? Maybe brutal honestly was necessary.

“…I meant that I’m sorry I startled you, but okay…”  
“Shepard…”

“I know, I know, I’m—” she began to apologize again, but cut herself off, offering Samantha a rueful smile. “I want to fix this. Um… Doctor Kennedy actually suggested that we consider going to couples’ therapy.”  
“Ugh, to what end, Shepard? You know what I’m going to say, I know what you’re going to say, so it’s rather pointless to say anything, isn’t it?” Samantha sighed. She appreciated the gesture, but she doubted it would work.

“I don’t know, Sam! I’m trying here, but I don’t know what you want from me, just tell me what I’m supposed to do here!”  
“Nothing because if it was something you wanted too, we wouldn’t be having this conversation and unless it’s something you want, I don’t see the point in forcing you to it.”

“What are you talking about?” Shepard frowned.

“The same damn thing I’ve been talking about ever since our relationship became serious! God, Shepard, how do you not… you know, it insults me to no end that you were easily discussing marriage and family with Liara, but you can’t… even...!” Samantha began to say, but the angry tears she’d been fighting back overwhelmed her and caught her breath. Shepard stepped to her, her arms raised as she attempted to pull Samantha into an embrace, but she took a step back.

“Don’t touch me!” she snapped, and instead of wrapping her arms around Samantha, Shepard raised them a little, so she stood there with her hands up like she was being ordered to keep her hands visible and surrender.

“I love you more than I love red sand and getting drunk.”  
“What?” Samantha scoffed through tears, certain she couldn’t have heard that right.

“It may not sound like much but when you consider these are words coming from a woman who once sold her hair for a line of red sand and shot of bourbon, you see it means something.”  
“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You said you know what I’m going to say, but I bet you didn’t know I’d say that.”  
“Stop trying to be cute,” Samantha said agitatedly and sniffled, wiping her eyes.

“Honestly, I don’t know what I’m trying to be right now, I just… need to ensure you know how much you mean to me,” Shepard said softly.  
“If that were true, committing to me shouldn’t be such a fucking problem for you!”

“It’s not a problem!” Shepard denied and Samantha let out a mocking and bitter laugh.

“Really? Then how come we’re still going around in circles over the same damn issues we’ve been going through for who knows how long? If I were Liara, we’d already be married and have a lot of little blue children. Unless you didn’t mean it with her either when you told her that,” she spat, and Shepard seemed to shrink a little as if she’d just gotten the wind punched out of her by Samantha’s words.

“Why are you waiting for me to ask you? Why haven’t you asked me?” she said, her attempt at sticking up for herself rather feeble because she knew she didn’t have a valid argument.  
“Because I know that if I had asked you, whatever your response to me, in your heart, you would’ve wanted to say no,” Samantha said, her anger draining from her voice with each word she spoke, turning exhausted, sad and disappointed.

“Samantha…”  
“No, just… leave me alone, I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she sighed tiredly. Shepard stood still and quiet for a long moment before stepping to her and putting her arms around her.

“I’m not going anywhere.”  
“You can’t just force this to be okay, you’re—”

“I know I can’t, but I won’t leave. I think I’ve done enough of that to last a lifetime. I miss you. I miss us, and I want to get us back on track, and I intend to get us there,” Shepard said sternly, and Samantha chuckled ruefully into Shepard’s shoulder through another wave of tears stinging in her eyes.

“I miss us too, and I want the same thing, but we’ve had this same conversation so many times before and nothing’s changed. I want to believe you, Shepard, but I can’t.”  
“I’ll fix this. I promise,” Shepard said running her fingers through Samantha’s hair and nuzzled the top of her head, and Samantha didn’t even bother rolling her eyes at her words; she’d heard them before too yet here they were again.

“How?” she challenged, pulling back from the embrace to be able to look at her. “What are you going to do to fix things, Shepard?” she asked, her voice dripping with bitter, cold venom.  
“I don’t know exactly, but I think I’ll start by doing something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

“If you propose to me right now, I will have you know I will literally punch you for being incredibly tacky,” Samantha threatened and Shepard smiled, shaking her head.  
“I figured, so that’s not what I had in mind,” she assured softly, let her hands drop to rest on Samantha’s waist and gently tugged on her until their bodies were pressed together.

“And you can’t just seduce your way out of this either.”  
“Oh, come on, I’m very charming and charismatic, how can you resist me?” Shepard teased, and the truth was, she barely did; she was on the verge of throwing her head back, sinking her hands into Shepard’s hair and yanking her down to leave a trail of those hungry kisses on Samantha’s neck and down to her chest.

“By reminding myself that I’m still mad at you,” Samantha responded, but it was taking some effort to sound stern about it.  
“Well, for the record, what I really had in mind was just being close to you. We haven’t exactly done that much either recently,” Shepard said seriously, and Samantha didn’t have an argument, she’d been more than aware of how cold and distant they’d been toward each other.

She was willing to admit majority of it was her fault for not knowing how to tell Shepard what she needed from her without becoming embarrassed over how shallow it seemed. Instead of speaking up, she’d spent what added up to hours bitterly masturbating in the shower while thinking about the woman who’d been literally just a few steps away and considered herself Samantha’s lover, but had still been completely unavailable to her at the time. All that had usually been followed by her walking into the bedroom to find Shepard already asleep, and Samantha had spent her night on the opposite side of the bed, her back toward Shepard.

She’d waited for Shepard to turn around, pull her close, nuzzle into the back of her neck, spoon her, mutter something incoherent sleepily (something Samantha would still be able to interpret as something akin to a declaration of love), or even just to reach out and run her fingertips along Samantha’s back. But it had never happened. Samantha had spent more nights crying herself to sleep while holding her own hand (she could see why it seemed silly, but she swore it had made her feel less lonely) than she cared to admit. By morning, their chihuahua Whiskey had found his way onto the bed and claimed the vacant area between Shepard and Samantha, so when Shepard got up, she’d never even realized Samantha had intentionally stayed away from her, she’d just assumed Samantha had made room for the dog.

Samantha didn’t exactly know why she hadn’t been able to just tell Shepard what had been happening. She supposed she’d wanted to believe Shepard would notice something was wrong, that Shepard would ask. God only knew what that would’ve helped since Samantha knew she would’ve lied and said it was nothing, doing that annoying “woman-thing” women had been accused of always doing by any person ever needing an example of how irrational and impossible women were; in other words, she’d expected Shepard to read her mind and realize to keep asking what was wrong despite that Samantha denying anything being wrong. What made it even crazier was the fact that she didn’t even know why she’d been that way; it wasn’t like her. And it was incredibly unfair toward Shepard.

“Would you come to bed with me and just… let me hold you?” Shepard whispered and Samantha smiled a little through the remaining errant tears still slipping to her cheeks. She wiped her face and nodded, and Shepard smiled back, interlaced her fingers with Samantha’s and turned to head upstairs, Samantha following behind with her hand in Shepard’s.

“I do need you to tell me why. Why was it so easy for you to tell Liara those things but you can’t do the same with me,” Samantha mumbled as they lay in bed, her head resting on Shepard’s chest. She didn’t really think she wanted to know the answer, but she couldn’t just not ask about it either.

“Because while I meant what I told her, I didn’t believe it would happen. It was easy to casually bring up. That isn’t to say I wouldn’t have wanted it; it just means I didn’t believe in it ever coming true. You know what I mean?” Shepard explained.  
“That you won’t ask me to marry you because you believe that would result in you having to get married, got it,” Samantha scoffed, and Shepard sighed.

“Not how I meant it!”  
“Then _how_ did you mean it!”

“I don’t…! Look, I just… I _do_ want everything with you, but I want to fix things first. I don’t want to make the mistake a lot of people do, namely think that they can use marriage and children as quick fixes for the problems they have in their relationship. It doesn’t work that way, you know it as well as I do,” Shepard said, and Samantha exhaled deeply.

“I know you’re right, but I’m just… I don’t know, maybe I am being unreasonable and impatient.”  
“You’re not, on the contrary. And I’m sorry I’ve made you wait for so long while I’ve kept messing everything up. I’m amazed you’re still here.”

“Yeah, well… you are kind of charming and nice to look at, so I figured I’d keep you for a while longer,” Samantha jested.  
“And for that I am eternally grateful,” Shepard said and turned to kiss Samantha gently. “I’ve missed holding you,” she mumbled into the kiss.

“I’ve been right here,” Samantha answered.  
“I know, but I didn’t think you wanted me to touch you. You were always staying as far from me as you could without falling off the bed, so I figured you wanted me to leave you alone.”

“And all I wanted was for you to pull me to you, but I didn’t want to force it on you because I wasn’t sure you’d want to. Oh, Shepard,” she laughed ruefully, “what are we doing? This is so dumb.”

“Well, I know we aren’t communicating clearly, that’s for sure,” Shepard chuckled awkwardly.  
“Maybe we really should go see that couples’ therapist,” Samantha sighed.

***


	18. A short history of nearly nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took some liberties with Shepard's background and made it so that she's all of the backgrounds you can choose in the game, because according to my math, she technically could've been in all three places.

The therapist introduced herself as Claire Redfield and instructed Samantha and Shepard to take a seat. She was rather young-looking, her auburn hair tied to a ponytail in the back and swept to the side and tucked behind her ear to keep it from hanging over her blue eyes in the front. She proceeded to explain that the first session would mostly be more like an interview of the couple, giving her an opportunity to get to know the basics. She admitted to having some knowledge regarding their life since a lot of it was more or less public thanks to Shepard’s fame, but she assured them she was a professional and wouldn’t let what she’d heard and seen interfere with what they were doing here.

“So, how did you two meet?” Doctor Redfield asked. Shepard glanced at Samantha and made a small gesture with her hand, silently letting her know she would prefer hearing Samantha’s version of it.  
“Well, the day Earth was invaded, I was working on the Normandy retrofits,” she began the story.

She hadn’t even realized what was happening until Ashley Williams had come up to her, told her “hold onto your panties and try not to piss in ‘em”, and the next thing she knew, the ship was moving, hurrying toward the reaper forces making quick work of destroying the city. After a brief stop to pick up the commander, they’d been on the move again, this time headed to Mars.

“I’d barely wrapped my head around what I’d seen… of course I’d heard of the reapers, I’d heard of Shepard, but I just hadn’t thought…  I mean, most people I’d ever heard discussing the subject seemed rather quick to dismiss the claim, so…”  
“You didn’t believe me either?” Shepard quirked an eyebrow and Samantha shook her head a little.

“It’s not that I didn’t believe you, I just didn’t think that it would all happen that way or so fast, I thought we’d have more time, I’d half expected that the threat wouldn’t… actualize until long after my lifetime, or something similarly naive.”

Samantha paused for a moment, giving either of the women in the room time to ask any follow-up questions, but when none came up, she continued speaking.

“So, there I was, and I was kind of lonely and scared. Not because of the obvious reason; I wasn’t afraid of the reapers because I firmly believed that right at that moment, the Normandy was probably the safest place I could’ve been at. I was scared because I was alone. Not literally, but… I didn’t really know anyone on board, I’ve always been kind of socially awkward so it’s not like I was rushing to make new friends right off the bat… and I was used to working at a lab, I’m a full-time nerd, I had no business being in frontline service,” she babbled.

There was another pause, but Doctor Redfield didn’t have anything to ask yet, and Shepard didn’t have anything to add, so Samantha continued.

“After a while, I decided to introduce myself to Shepard. I had no idea what to expect exactly because at that point, I only knew her by her reputation… and frankly, based on her titles alone, I was expecting her to be some kind of a monster,” Samantha said, her words turning into a quiet mumble toward the end of the sentence.

Shepard hung her head a little, looking somewhat embarrassed for some reason. Samantha hadn’t meant to embarrass her or make her feel bad, but she didn’t know how else she should’ve worded it. It occurred to her only now that she’d never discussed these things in detail with Shepard, she didn’t know how Shepard felt about her titles.

Shepard had taken part in all the recent famous conflicts, Shepard had been on Elysium during the Skyllian blitz and had gone from there to have her team torn apart by thresher maws, recovered, and continued on to Torfan to finish the job that had gotten started on Elysium. All that added up to a certain degree of fame, at least among the Alliance; every marine knew who Shepard was and what she’d done, knew her reputation.

“I won’t lie, being called ‘The butcher of Torfan’ was something I took pride in. Do I wish I could’ve done some things differently? Absolutely, but even if there was no other option but to do it all again exactly the same, I would do it again. I don’t apologize for what I did, but that reputation isn’t something I’d want to be associated with anymore,” Shepard spoke up. Doctor Redfield nodded and made a small gesture with her hand, silently inviting Samantha to continue.

“Right. So… I decided to go over the retrofits with Shepard and introduce myself while I was at it, and I practically barge into her cabin and interrupt her conversation with Liara… who was also Shepard’s significant other at the time…” Samantha trailed off and Shepard rubbed her forehead with her fingertips awkwardly.

“You look like you want to say something about that,” Doctor Redfield encouraged.

“My relationship with Liara was somewhat complicated and rather distant, most of the time literally, because neither of us ever really had much time for… us. So, when I met Sam, I was still technically in a relationship with Liara, but it was kind of a gray area, like… our relationship would’ve been pretty much the same even if we hadn’t been dating, you know what I mean?”

“That you had gone from lovers to being just friends and colleagues?” Doctor Redfield suggested.

“Well, yeah, pretty much,” Shepard nodded. “I guess I should also mention that Liara and I have a daughter. Liara’s an asari, in case that needs to be said, and she decided to use my genetic material for having a baby, and she did this without my consent or my knowledge of it happening, so that was a fun little bombshell that was dropped on Sam and I a couple of years after the war,” she then added and Doctor Redfield raised her eyebrows at that.

“Must have been quite a shock,” she commented.  
“It was. But, I digress, I’m sure this’ll come up again later,” Shepard then said.

“Okay, so, I went to introduce myself, and give Shepard the details regarding the retrofits, and I was super nervous, but I realized pretty quickly that Shepard wasn’t as intimidating as I’d expected based on her reputation. And, later on, she came around and we’d chat, and I noted she’s a very approachable and fun person who genuinely seemed to care about others,” Samantha said with a smile and glanced at Shepard. She still looked embarrassed, only now for different reasons; she looked like a shy kid who’d gotten a compliment, the only thing that was missing was a blush.

“Fast-forwarding past the sleepless nights I spent wondering if Shepard was flirting with me or if I was just imagining it and skip to me inviting myself over to her cabin to play chess.”  
“I never knew you lost sleep over it,” Shepard commented.

“Well, I had to think about it thoroughly, I couldn’t just be like ‘hey commander, let’s play chess, also, I quite fancy you’, now could I?” Samantha chuckled.  
“For the record, that would’ve totally worked,” Shepard laughed softly. Samantha sighed with a smile and rolled her eyes a little before turning her attention back to Doctor Redfield.

“Anyway, she invited me to her cabin, I go over and remark on her shower, never expecting her to tell me to go ahead and take a shower! And at that point I decided that I had to just go for it, come hell or high water.”  
“What was going through your mind at that moment?” Doctor Redfield asked Shepard.

“Admittedly, I was rather infatuated with Sam at that point, but I wasn’t sure if anything would come of it, especially since I was still technically with Liara then… and when I told Sam she’s welcome to take a shower, I really didn’t have a hidden agenda. And then… she gets in the shower, leaves the door open… and I’m sitting there trying to figure it out, because if I’d interpreted her wrong, I could get charged with sexual misconduct. Not that it would’ve been something anyone would’ve had the time to investigate let alone prosecute at that point of the war, but still. At the very least it would’ve been extremely awkward.”

“What exactly would’ve been?” Doctor Redfield frowned a little.  
“Oh, I, um, I joined her in the shower.”

“With her clothes on,” Samantha interjected, “who does that?”  
“Commander Shepard does,” the blonde smirked.

“Anyway, that’s how we got started, and after the war and after Shepard recovered from her injuries and after I finally got back to Earth, we moved here and lived happily until recently,” Samantha said, a rueful smile tugging the corner of her mouth.  
“So, what went wrong?” Doctor Redfield inquired.

“Bluntly put, I fucked up,” Shepard said.  
“We’re not here to place blame on either one of you, we’re here to figure out what is the cause of your problems and how to fix it,” Doctor Redfield assured.

“I’m just saying, I’m the problem.”  
“No, see, this is exactly what I mean,” Samantha sighed, “I appreciate you trying to own up to your mistakes but it doesn’t help unless you learn from them, it’s the same thing like with the endless apologies, they don’t mean anything because you apologize but you don’t do anything to adjust your behavior.”

“Maxima, you keep saying you’re the problem, and I’d like to know is why do you think that? What specifically is it that makes you the problem?” Doctor Redfield inquired. Shepard sighed deeply and ran a hand over her face. This would take a while to explain.

After giving a very brief and very condensed explanation of everything she’d learned about herself recently, Shepard paused to take a breath before speaking again, trying to put a finger on what she’d been going at, but she couldn’t. She found herself talking and desperately trying to keep coming up with words that somehow connected to what she’d been saying, but the grand thought she’d had in her mind when she’d began talking had slipped away.

“…and during all that, it’s gotten so bad we’re arguing over things that I never would’ve believed would end up becoming a problem for us, because up until recently, we’ve been pretty much on the same page about everything… at least, that’s what I’ve thought,” Shepard finished.

“Or maybe we just thought we were on the same page because we thought we were talking about the same thing when in reality we weren’t,” Samantha added in a mumble.  
“So, what were you talking about, Samantha?” the doctor inquired.

“A big house with a white picket fence, two kids and a dog. When Shepard said she’d like that, I expected our relationship to be heading that way. It’s been over five years now, and we’re still not quite there.”  
“And I take it your interpretation of that was the same?” Doctor Redfield then asked Shepard, and she nodded. “So, then, what is holding you back?”

“Well, it seems to me that Shepard doesn’t want to have a baby with me.”  
“That isn’t how it is!”

“It’s how it feels like to me!”  
“What is the real reason?” Doctor Redfield inquired and Shepard almost growled in frustration.

“I don’t know!”  
“How can you not know! You’re the only one who can know!”

“Samantha…” the doctor intervened quietly.  
“Sorry.”

“I’m scared that if we have a baby right now, it’ll be like… it’ll become the kid’s responsibility to act as the magic cure to all our problems.”

“I do not accept that,” Samantha scoffed, “because that isn’t where we started, our problems started when you kept putting it off and I started pushing you about it after you failed to give a straight answer. Saying you’re worried we’d expect our relationship to be fixed by having a baby is just your latest excuse!”

“All right, all right! I’m afraid!”  
“What are you afraid of?” Doctor Redfield asked and Shepard bit her lower lip for a long while as she considered how to word it.

“I’m afraid that I won’t be able to love the baby.”  
“Why do you think that would happen?”

“Because I already have one daughter and I don’t love her. There, I said it, I don’t love Janae, at least not as deeply as a parent should. And that’s a horrible thing to say. What makes it worse is that I’ve pretty much told her as much, and I shouldn’t have, but I just lost my temper and…”

“What happened?”

“She was being a brat, I told her to behave or I wouldn’t take her to see a movie like we’d planned, she kicked me shin and yelled ‘I don’t like you’, you know, like kids do, but instead of just ignoring it, I straight up snapped ‘well, shit, I  don’t like you either’, and… she ran to her room and we never really discussed it and I didn’t apologize or explain or anything, and it’s not like I can bring it up _now_ , it’s been over a year already, I’m hoping she’s forgotten it, but _then_ I start to think about all the things I remember from my own childhood… I realize hurtful things are the only things I remember and _still_ feel bad over. So… when that happened, I got scared of turning into Lilith because evidently, I had the potential. What I said was something straight out from her playbook. And now I’m afraid that if we have a baby, I won’t know how to love her.”

“Shepard… why didn’t you just tell me?” Samantha asked, her anger having faded and gotten replaced by an unfamiliar sadness. Shepard scoffed and blinked repeatedly to clear her vision from the blurriness the subtle tears rising to her eyes caused.

“How could I? I was ashamed because admitting you don’t love your own child isn’t something a normal person would have to even think about. You just said that based solely on my reputation and the things people said about me, you thought I’d be a monster. Imagine how much more of a monster I would come across as if I’d told you I’m incapable of loving my own child,” Shepard spat. “And before you get into it I’ll have you know that yes, I’ve discussed it with my shrink and he told me it’s not uncommon and that it’s probably because I never had a proper chance to emotionally bond with Janae when she was a baby, but it’s not something I can be certain of, it could still be just me being too fucked up to be a parent.”

“Maxima, if you ignore your concern regarding that particular issue, do you want a baby?” Doctor Redfield asked and Shepard nodded immediately, and not just because she knew that was the response Samantha certainly was expecting.

“Yes. I just keep going back and forth about it because one day I think, you know, fuck it, let’s do it, let’s have a baby, and the next I’m worried having a baby would be incredibly unfair toward the baby, and Samantha, because if I screw up, Samantha will be the one who has to carry the responsibility for everything alone,” Shepard exhaled deeply.

“I don’t need you to decide that for me. In fact, I’m doing this, I’m going to have a baby, with or without you,” Samantha stated, stood up and abruptly exited the room.

“…uh… same time next week?” Shepard inquired awkwardly from the doctor.

***


End file.
